The Third Act
by TruthSS
Summary: We know how they met, how they fell in love. But the story continues. The ex-President and the Fixer try again to love. But this time, it's for real.
1. Chapter 1

Olivia Pope felt very…old. Standing in front of her bedroom vanity clad in a bathrobe, with her hair in curlers, she also felt ridiculous.

It was funny how life turned out sometimes. At 39 years old, she was Washington D.C's premier crisis management consultant. In a matter of a few years, her tiny boutique firm of Olivia Pope & Associates had grown exponentially and she had a client base that would make any political strategist or PR agent jealous.

And yet, life seemed empty somehow. Sure, she had great friends, a great career and was still a size two, but she was…going through the motions.

_Olivia, you need some excitement in your life. _She thought as she began to apply make-up to her face.

Hopefully the next few hours provided some form of excitement. After all, it was the Kennedy Center Honors. How many times did you get to be in the same room with George Clooney and…Fitzgerald Grant?

At the thought of being in the same building, let alone same room with her former boss and ex-president, her heart jumped into her throat.

_Don't choke when you see him. _Olivia thought.

It had been years. A whole year since Fitzgerald Grant had left the White House. The second term of prosperity, reduced deficits and a successful military surge in Afghanistan had culminated quietly and smoothly. Very different from the early years of the Grant Administration that had been plagued with setbacks and innuendo. It was a term that Olivia had not been a part of.

_Five years…_It had been five years of her never hearing his voice on the phone. Five years since she last saw him up close…

How would she feel seeing him tonight? It would be a lot easier if there had been closure…

* * *

Fitzgerald Grant had checked his watch for the millionth time. Sitting in the plush Presidential box made him oddly nostalgic. And not in a good way. It reminded him of all the times when he was president. When his ex-wife and the former First Lady would poke him constantly in the side…

_Smile, wave…don't forget the cameras. _She used to say through gritted teeth. One of the many benefits of being an ex-president. Those pressures were no longer. If he had it his way, he would be skiing in Vermont with Karen and Jerry, reading Keats and working on his memoir. But being a popular ex-president, typically resulted in him getting invited to such functions. Kennedy Center Honors, State dinners, UN delegation parties…

_I can't wait for this to end…_he thought bored as he sighed deeply. The performances were a tad bit dry and the dedications were boring. There were only so many Marin Scorsese movie could stomach. Though he did not dare express this out loud, seeing that the legendary director was literally sitting right behind him. As his eyes wandered, from the _Goodfellas _dedication piece being played, they landed on the box adjacent to him. In it sat a few recognizable faces, some who worked in the Grant Administration and now worked for President Langston. Second rate staffers, people from the Justice department, and…

His heart violently jumped into his throat…he had not seen her in years. With the exception of on television and from afar at White House Correspondents dinners of times past.

She had done everything to avoid him when it ended. Changed her number, ignoring his emails. Cyrus and Olivia were good friends and occasionally, he would ask about her.

_So, how's Olivia? _He had asked a few months ago, when he had attended Cyrus's 60th birthday party in Georgetown.

_Oh, she's great, business as usual. She's really doing well._

He knew that. He followed her work. He had kept magazines, articles and publications that profiled her. Her helping a major corporation recover from an embezzlement scandal, the washed up, drug addicted child star who she had helped become a critical acclaimed darling…

The congressmen who had been accused of murdering his mistress who now had a wildly popular prime time slot on cable news…

But to see her sitting there, elegantly draped in a creamy white gown, her hair pulled away from her face, he was taken back to eight years ago…on the night of his inauguration. When they had made love all night at the Ritz…

He did not realize, as his mind was lost in times past, times of stolen kisses, impassioned nights and memories past that the object of his attention had noticed him staring. Her expressive eyes widened in shock as they made contact with his own grey ones.

Fitz felt as the blood in his veins had stopped flowing. That face, those eyes….

His eyes travelled to her mouth, her plump lips spreading in a dazzling smile and mouthing the word "Hi."

* * *

Staring at Fitz was as if life no longer made sense again. As though her lungs had made contact with too much oxygen …

_Dear lord, what do I do? _She could feel her face spreading into a shit eating grin. She felt dorky and stupid as her heart rate speed up with every moment that passed. His focus was razor sharp. Even after all this time, with years of words and time between them, she knew her baby. And she knew when he was looking at her. His face bore no signs of time, still as handsome as he was that day in New Hampshire when she had told him off…

"Hi." She mouthed ridiculously, as his face spread into a smile. He smiled back, flashing a dazzling smile that made her feel light headed.

_I can't do this_. She thought stupidly. So she did the only logical thing she could do.

She got up, and walked out. Step by step, excusing herself from the box, she tried to regain her composure. She tried to be calm, level headed and unaffected. But her body would not will her. As she walked into the empty hallway, her golden stilettos clacking against the marble, the memories she had tried to suppress for the past few years had come flooding back. The long nights, the stolen kisses…

She finally stopped walking when she heard footsteps behind her. She did not turn around. She did not need to. She knew the sound of his footsteps…

They haunted her dreams. The rhythmic sound of his dress shoes against the floor that used to make her heart flutter when she sat in her White House office years ago…

"Liv?" His voice called. It was like a whisper, but it was amplified by the silence of the hall. She wanted to run. To do the rational thing. The thing she had told herself before arriving to the Center…the thing she had been thinking about all night as she got dressed. To stay calm and be composed in his presence. To not choke…

She turned around and saw him nearly five feet away. Tall, dashing in his tuxedo. As he slowly approached, Olivia felt her face flush.

"Mr. President." She said her voice uneven as she tried to focus on his bowtie. With each approaching step he took, it became difficult. That familiar cologne encased her. Masculine, sexy…Tom Ford, _Black Orchid. _When he used to sneak to her apartment, she would sleep in the sheets they made love in for days, just to be around that intoxicating smell. Olivia thought as he finally was within arm's length of her.

"Hey, stranger." He said friendly. His baritone was music to her ears. She swallowed hard.

"Hi."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Olivia could no longer take it. His bowtie was not enough of a distraction to keep her from those grey orbs…

"Are you as bored as I am?" He asked kindly, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah…I…was kind of…bored, Scorsese's not really my guy." She said lamely, forcing a smile.

He nodded, smiling widely. "I know. Hitchcock is your favorite director."

Olivia smiled, her nerves calming a bit. "You remembered?"

"Of course." He said quietly. He took a moment to drink her in, his eyes traveling from her face to the valley of her cleavage. Olivia felt her skin heating up once more.

"I got to say, you look good, kid." He said smoothly, licking his lips. Kid…his favorite nickname for her when they were kidding around. The hallmarks of times past. It was Kid when they were flirting, being playful. Behind closed doors, when they were in the throes…it had been Sweet Baby.

Olivia giggled stupidly. "Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself…so how's post-presidency treating you?"

_What a dumb question…_

He shrugged and sighed. "It's going well. Just meet with Simon & Shuster-"

"Yeah, I heard, big book deal." Olivia finished as he nodded.

"And you must be, as busy as ever, making deals, I'm sure you've broken a few hearts." Fitz said smoothly. Olivia could feel the heat radiating from him. There it was…that Grant charm. He could not help it. Voters fell for it, and years ago she had fallen for it. Hell, she was still falling for it.

"I hardly have time to break hearts, Mr. President." She said, staring him in the eye. She could see his smile vanishing, his eyebrow cocking.

"Mr. President , Livy? Really?" He asked.

Olivia snorted. This again. She stared him in the face. "Well, that is your name, is it not?"

"No, I'm not President anymore. Remember?" He said sharply. The smoothness, the pretense was gone. The razor sharp focus had returned.

Olivia rolled her eyes. The nerves had evaporated at his tone. She did not want to do this. She was not in the mood. After years of therapy, forgetting and speed dates, she thought she would be able to move on. But she could not. The hurt was still there. The feelings were too raw. The way they ended had been too abrupt to stand in this majestic hallway and make small talk.

She turned on her heel to walk away. But before she could even take her first step, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her flush against him. He leaned forward, pushing her hair away and whispering in her ear.

"It's been too long." He said softly. The tingle generating all over Olivia's body from his touch, the feel of his body was too much.

"Fitz…I…"

"I know. And I'm sorry. But that's in the past. I'm in Washington for a few more days. I'm staying at the Ritz. In our favorite suite. You don't have to. But I would love for you to spend the-"

"No! Not this again, I can't keep being-"

"Liv, I know. I know how it's been. It's been that way for me to. But we have no excuses anymore. I'm not President. I'm not married anymore. And I'm definitely not over you. If you feel the same, if you felt what I felt tonight in there when I looked at you, then come to me tonight. We don't have to do anything. We can just talk. But I need to see you. Even if it's just one last time. Even if it does not become anything…I need to see you, midnight."

And with that, he let go of Olivia and walked away, leaving Olivia with only one thought on her mind.

_Hopefully there wasn't too much traffic heading toward the Ritz…_


	2. Killing Me Softly

Fitz could not help but smile when he opened the door. Olivia's reaction to him answering the door in his undershirt and dress pants was classic…and yet so familiar.

"Come in." he said politely as she walked into the hotel suite. As he walked by her, her intoxicating fragrance made him light headed. He had the most powerful urge to grab her. Especially with the way her hips were swaying when she walked by him.

"Eyes up, Mr. President." Olivia said curtly as she sat down on the leather sofa, crossing her legs. Her face was stone cold. Focused. _She looks like she's ready to battle. _

Fitz smirked, shaking his head and walking toward her. "What, I can't look?" he asked jokingly, trying to diffuse the tension. It was swirling around them, all the unsaid words, and the memories of making love in this room…

"No, you lost those privileges years ago." She said her voice filled with snarky coolness. Fitz felt a sharp pain in his chest. It was sad, really that their relationship had determinate so much to the point that he could not joke around with her. Years ago, the Olivia Pope he knew would have laughed and dished out a smart comment of her own.

Fitz walked closer to her, studying her demeanor. She seemed so cold, void of any of the warmth and flirtatious banter of yesteryear.

"Well, if I lost those privileges, why are you here?" He shot back. He could see a glimmer in her eyes. He had touched a nerve. She smirked, re-crossing her legs and folding her arms.

"Typical, little Fitzy boy needs his sexual fix, and when he can't get it, he gets annoyed." She said wickedly. Fitz's mouth dropped open…

"Excuse me?" He said. What had gotten into her? A few hours ago, she had been fine, awkward and tense, yes but still his Livy. Now, there was cruelness to her. The kind he once saw in flashes when they argued.

She chuckled and shook her head. "You heard me."

Fitz stared at her. The bad posture, the bloodshot eyes…

He knew her better than anyone. Liv had the tolerance of an Irish dock worker. To the untrained eye, she was fine. But he knew her…_She had been drinking._

"Liv, I know this isn't-"

"There you go again, Mr. President." She stood up, slowly sauntering toward him, her lids heavy, lips curled in a sneer. As she got closer to him, invaded his space, he caught a whiff of their favorite drink. Johnny Walker, Black Label.

"There I go again, what?" Fitz asked coolly challenging her. It may have been years, she might be different for all he knew. But in his heart of hearts, he knew his Livy better than anyone….

"Do it." She challenged. "Work your magic. The tragic, brooding Camelot-lite pretty boy routine. The sad eyes, the looks. Do what you do best Fitz, reduce me to nothing more than a dirty little secret."

Fitz could feel a rush of irrational anger. He could not believe the words coming out of her mouth. But he was not going to give her what she wanted. It all was becoming clearer as the seconds ticked along. She wanted to avoid her feelings.

"Oh yeah, baby? What's my magic?" Fitz asked sarcastically, attempting to stroke her face, but she swiped his hand away.

"Oh you know. You say a few sweet things, I fall for it, and we fall back into the same routine. You fuck me at your discretion, when you want, how you want, like I let you before." She said crudely.

Fitz laughed. "Right, because you weren't a willing participant?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, folding her arms. He had touched a nerve. All he needed to do was ride this out and push her to the brink.

"I was. But not anymore."

Fitz nodded slowly approaching her as she walked backwards. He cornered her, wrapping his arms around her, despite her attempts to escape his grasp.

"Let…me…go" She spat maliciously at him.

"No."

"Let…" She struggled but Fitz pinned her to the wall, his hands wrapped around her wrist, pushing his body into hers. He could feel her. The soft curves of her breast against him, the soft silk of her skin….

They stood there for a minute. It seemed a bit ridiculous. Two grown people entangled messily. The strap of Olivia's dress slid down, tempting Fitz even more. His breathing had labored, his body responding in an excitement. He was hardening.

"Baby…" He whispered against her ear. Her body was shaking as he cupped her cheek. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. He turned her head gently towards him, looking her deeply in her eyes. The hurt was there, a vacantness that he had never seen before. This was an Olivia had never seen before. Even at her most vulnerable, he had never seen her longing for something.

"Don't." She cried through her tears, her face screwed up in agony. But like a moth to a flame, he could not help it; he uttered the words that had crumbled her resolve so many years ago in the Oval Office.

"I…love…you. Sweet baby." He said softly, his voice filled with emotion. It was as if time stopped, existing in only a vacuum. So the time between Fitz's words and Olivia pulling him a searing kiss ceased to exist.

All bets were off as Fitz wrapped his arms around Olivia's lithe waist, his hands traveling down her bare back, to her rear, grabbing her as she moaned in his mouth. Their tongues, lips and minds were in a fierce battle to communicate years of longing, pain and most importantly desire.

"Ah!" Olivia moaned as Fitz shifted the focus of his lips to Olivia's neck. The soft hallow crevice behind her earlobe.

* * *

Olivia watched him, as he rolled over onto his side. There were angry red marks down his muscular back. Marks were she had dug her nails and clawed with pleasure. It was a mystery that he was not wincing in pain.

In the moon's glow, everything seemed heightened. Her body ached from hours of pleasure. Her muscles were tense and yet she felt more content than she had felt in a long time.

"Do you want one?" He offered softly, his voice hoarse from sex. Olivia looked at him, taking in the beauty of his face. She was way too distracted by him to notice he was offering her a cigarette.

Olivia smiled. "I don't smoke anymore." She said softly. He smirked, his eyes playfully dancing in the moonlight. Like two small flames of grey fire.

"What? Come on! We always used to smoke, after…." He said grinning widely and wrapping an arm around Olivia as she turned over. He buried his face in her neck, placing soft and feathery kisses.

Olivia smiled widely. "I know what you are doing Fitz, and it's not going to work."

"Please? You know how much I love it…so sexy. Like Ingrid Bergman in _Casablanca…"_ He crooned as his hand traveled from her shoulder, down to her breast.

Olivia rolled her eyes, turning around to look at Fitz. The fire was still lit in his eyes. The same burning passion that she shared, leading her back in his arms, in his bed, in the very room where he had broken her heart all those years ago. How did she keep doing this? She wondered as she stroked his cheek and played with a stray curl that grazed his forehead.

"We did a lot of things together that were bad for me together." Olivia whispered. Fitz looked puzzled at her observation.

"Like what?"

Olivia sighed. "You, me, this. The hotel rooms, the smoking,…when does it stop, baby? I'm tired of loving you. It hurts so much. When is it not going to mess with my mind? When am I going to get over you? When does the addiction stop?"

"It doesn't. It shouldn't have to." He said sternly detangling himself from Olivia and sitting up. Olivia shook her head softly. She could feel the tears coming on. The trepidation, the doubts. She wanted him. The walls she had built had come crumbling down. As the fear and sadness rose in her throat, he took her hand and softly began kissing the inside of her wrist. The kisses were beautiful. Every time he laid a kiss on her wrist, he whispered a gentle affirmation.

_I'm sorry._

_ I missed you._

_ I loved you_.

She did not doubt that. She loved him, missed him and was sorry too. But the one affirmation she could not bear to hear was:

_I will never hurt you again…_

As much as her heart was telling her he meant it, the dark voice in her head doubted that would ever be true.


	3. Moving in the Right Direction

Olivia and Abby were on a shopping frenzy. Which Abby was convinced was necessary. After weeks of toiling away in the shabby offices of _Olivia Pope & Associates_ on a case involving a high profile lobbyist making illegal deals with members of Congress, a break did not seem like a bad idea. The gloomy Saturday morning had started off at the Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa, and had been capped off by a delicious breakfast and retail therapy.

"What about these?" Olivia asked, holding up a structured white dress.

Abby laughed, rolling her eyes. "Gosh Liv, could you ease up on the white for like, five seconds. You need a little more color in your wardrobe."

Olivia laughed, rolling her eyes. But secretly, she felt uncomfortable about the observation. The real reason she wore white was it connected her to Fitz…

_Dear God. _The dark voice thought. The sheer idea of him made her hot all over. She attempted to distract herself by rummaging through the clothing rack. To not think about his soft lips by her ear telling her that the reason he loved her in white was because it reminded him of Olivia being wrapped in sheets after sex. And how he thought she was radiant in the morning…

She tried not to think about her slip up two days ago where she had been stupid enough to meet him at the Ritz. Had it been good? Of course. Fitz had never failed her in that area. He had been out of this world. Even better than she remembered. But the emotions had been too raw for her and overwhelmed her. It all came flooding back as she stroked the soft white fabric of the dress she wanted, her mind wandering.

_He continued kissing the inside of her wrist. But despite the logical side of her brain screaming at her to stop him, her body relished in the contact. He kissed his way slowly up her wrist, up her arm and to her neck. She leaned back, as his warm body encased hers. The sensations were incredible, the desire inevitable as she felt his member stiffen between them._

_ "Livy…" He moaned. She spread her legs, for she was eager and gushing with wanton passion. Olivia wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he deliciously inched his way into her warmth. They both inhaled deeply, as though the act was life for the first time. _

_He began to move, slowly and less forcefully than their earlier rounds. They were making love this time, just like the old days. She could feel her eyes welling up with emotion. From the intensity of the pleasure to the breath of her love for him._

_ "Mm…" She moaned loudly as Fitz began to slowly kiss her, his tongue playing ever so seductively with her own. But before she could escape to the promise land with her love, a loud annoying noise sounded, accompanied by vibration of the side table. His cellphone…_

_ "Babe…honey…I need-"_

_ "No, don't stop. You feel amazing." She pleaded, as he broke away from kiss. Anguish and annoyance was written all over his face. His eyes were still cloudy with lust._

_He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I have to get this." He said as he slowly pulled out of her, rolled off her and picked up his cell phone. Olivia felt the bottom fall out. The warmth of sex, his touch and hours in each other's arms evaporated. It was replaced with those empty feelings. The coldness of years past. Whenever they would have sex, there was always a knock, a phone call, or a policy briefing interrupting their utopia. _

_ "Hello?" He answered, breathing heavily as he sat up. Olivia wrapped the sheets around her body and sat up, propping herself on the headboard. She could hear a sharp, shrill voice. The way his shoulders hunched over, the way his brow furrowed. Mellie._

_ "Yeah, yeah. Mel, look, I'm going to be there don't-. Now, you look, I'm in town for a few things alright? I've got this interview tomorrow with Gregory, I don't…oh, and that's a really nice way to put things, don't you dare…Yeah, well fuck you too!" _

_His tone was vitriolic. He clicked off the phone and slammed it on the table, his breathing laboring._

_Olivia felt her blood boil. She rolled out of bed and immediately began scurrying around for her clothes. _

_ "Hey! What are you doing?" Fitz asked perplexed._

_Olivia frantically pulled her gown over her head as tears fell down her face. All these years, and she still was the lingering cloud. She would never escape their psychodrama. She would always be another chess piece in their game._

_ "What did she say about me?" Olivia asked, her voice wracked with emotion._

_ "Look, she just wanted to know if I was going to Karen's-"_

_ "Don't avoid the question Fitz! She said something didn't she? Does she know? Is that why you came here?" Olivia yelled._

_Fitz looked as though he was on the verge of tears. "Livy…"_

_ "DON'T YOU DARE 'LIVY' ME! What did she say about me!"_

_ "Look, she doesn't know I was with you last night okay? That's not why I was in town! She texted me last night about Karen's recital and I guess she figured because I didn't pick up-"_

_ "You were fucking someone." Olivia finished ominously._

_ "Look!" Fitz said forcefully. "What I do is none of her business. We are not married anymore! Why can't you see that!"_

_ "What did she call me?"_

_Fitz sighed, rubbing his neck. He always did that when he was stressed. "She said 'I hope you aren't screwing any whores', happy now, now can we-"_

_ "No! I'm NO one's whore. Not yours and not ever!"_

"Liv? Liv!" Abby asked loudly. Olivia's head snapped back. Abby's blue eyes were filled with concern. She had not realized it but she was crying.

"Huh?" Olivia said lamely, rubbing her wet cheeks rapidly. She proceeded to walk over to the shoe section to avoid Abby's inquiring questions. She knew how her friend could be. Harsh, tough and judgmental. This was her reason for not confiding in her about her night with Fitz, as a matter of fact, she had not mentioned it to anyone. She had been tempted to tell Huck or Harrison, maybe even call Stephen in Boston, but she knew what they would do. The big brother, "He's an asshole" routine.

But she felt Abby hot on her heels. Unfortunately her friend's height advantage, she caught up, catching her arm.

"Liv, I know you. And I know you don't tell me everything, but something is up."

"Nothing is up."

"Then either that clothing rack did something to hurt your feelings, or you really must like white because you stood there for a hot second crying. So fess up, or else." Abby said fiercely. Olivia took a deep breath, and looked around. It was early on a Saturday morning so luckily the store was not too filled. She sat down on the sofa and lowered her eyes.

"I saw him". She said pathetically hanging her head. There was a silence that followed.

"I thought so." Abby's voice said sharply. "Where?"

Olivia could not hold it back anymore. She did not care if Abby yelled at her. She needed to get it off her chest.

"At the Kennedy Center Honors." Olivia answered. She could feel Abby sitting down next to her, breathing a deep sigh.

"And I'm guessing you slept with him?" She asked, in an uncharacteristically soft tone. Olivia looked up to see Abby's normally smirking face downtrodden with sympathy and sadness.

"How did you-"

"Liv, I may not know all the dirty details, but I know enough. I've been there. With…Stephen. And it's hard. It's been very hard. Even after all these years having to get over the fact that he and I would never happen." Abby said, her voice uneven.

"And you were there for all the shit with my husband, Liv. So, no worries, we both have sucky luck with men." Abby said kindly putting an arm around Olivia.

Olivia's heart warmed. She breathed in deeply. "Thanks Ab. I just need someone to talk to."

Abby smiled. "Then talk."

Olivia smiled as tears rolled down her cheeks. She filled her in. The fears, the drama, the heartache. Surprisingly, Abby listened, rarely ever interjecting. She dug through her purse and handed Olivia tissues, she rubbed her back when she cried. She was the shoulder Olivia needed.

* * *

"How about this?" Olivia asked as she stepped out of her bathroom, showing off a sky high pair of Christian Louboutins. They had returned to Olivia's Georgetown apartment, modeling off their day's purchases and continuing their "Girls Day" with wine, and romantic comedy movie.

Abby grinned and nodded in approval. "Very sexy. Where are you planning on wearing those?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Fitz would have a heart attack if he saw me in these." Olivia said sardonically. Abby laughed.

"Why?"

Olivia shook her head. "Sounds stupid but he loves me in heels and-"

"Okay, total TMI, I know he's hot and all but I don't need to hear about his kinks." Abby said unconvincingly. Olivia knew Abby. She wanted all the dirty details.

"Yeah right." She laughed, taking the shoes off.

"Well, if we are on the subject, how was the whole…"

"Amazing, fireworks. Not to mention he's the size of-"

"Enough! Stop rubbing it in!"

"Hey, you wanted to know." They laughed. But before Olivia could make her way to the couch and enjoy the rest of 'Pretty Woman' her cellphone rang. She pulled it out of her jean pocket.

_Untitled…maybe it was a client._

"Pope?" Olivia answered nonchalantly.

"Hi." His voice said. Olivia's heart skipped a beat. _What the hell? How did he even get her number?_

"Liv?" He inquired.

"What." She spat viciously. "Why are you calling, who gave-"

He breathed heavily. "Look, I got it from Cy-"

Olivia felt anger lick her insides. _I'm going to kick his ass._

"Whatever, why are you calling?" She interrogated.

There was a long pause. She could hear his breathing, uneven and sharp.

"Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I-"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Look, I have stuff to do and-"

"Are you drinking?" He asked quietly. Olivia felt cold at the question. Sure, she was having a few drinks with Abby. She typically had a glass or two at the end of the day. What the hell?

"What's it to you?"

"I can hear it in your voice. When you drink, Liv. I know you. When your stressed. The old Pinot Noir. When your horny, you drink scotch. When you want to impress people, let them know that you are a lady, but one that kicks ass and takes names, you get a Bourbon. I know you Liv. I always will." He said softly.

It was amazing. How he remembered the minutia of her. The things that made her tick. Her stupid little behavioral patterns.

"Oh yeah? What else do you remember?" Olivia asked sarcastically as she headed back into the bathroom for privacy.

He chuckled. "I remember how ticklish you are. How much you hate your feet, hence distracting people from how big you _think_ they are with all the fancy foot wear. I remember how you like to do yoga in the morning before a long day on the campaign trail."

Olivia smiled, as the memories of them together flooded back.

"You would remember that, Fitzgerald." She answered playfully.

"Wow, actually calling me by my name now, impressive. That's my girl." Olivia could hear a ring of sarcasm in his voice. She smiled wider.

"I'm not your girl anymore. What do you want?" She sighed.

"To have dinner with you. Tonight."

"By dinner do you mean food service, Chinese food by candlelight in a hotel room where I can't be seen." Olivia answered defensively. In the past, dinner was always a secluded event.

He paused. "No Olivia. I want to have dinner with you. In public. I am a man, just a man. And I'm asking a smart and sexy former coworker-"

"We were more than coworkers, Fitz. And beside, you were kind of my boss. With a very important job." Olivia said smiling like an idiot.

"Don't remind me. Anyway, Shelly's, you know Shelly's? And I know how much you love cigars…"

Olivia laughed. "No, I don't love cigars. I smoked one once because it turned you on."

Fitz laughed. His laugh warmed Olivia's insides. The old good feelings and memories came flooding back. "Yeah, well, there's something about you putting things in your mouth that just gets the better of me."

"How very Monica Lewinsky of me. So Shelly's it is. It's amazing that a woman can sleep with a man on and off for nearly 7 years and he finally asks me out on a date after all this time." Olivia said playfully. But given the pause on the other end of the phone, it was not a joke Fitz took lightly.

"Liv, I know what happened. And I know how things ended. But I want to do this right. I want to date you. Like real life. No scotch, no hotel rooms. Real life dating with dinner and dancing, Broadway shows. I want to be able to know what you look like in a bikini when we are on vacation. I want you to be able to sleep over without worrying about sneaking out the next morning. I know I live in California, but we can make this work. I have a jet anyway, and I will be spending a lot of time in Washington."

Olivia was breathless. He was saying all the right things.

"Liv, are you still there?"

"I'm nodding. Look, that all sounds amazing Fitz, but-"

"I don't want to hear it now. What I want is you and me, in Shelly's in two hours. I want you in something short, tight and sexy. I want us to have a good time and talk. Just talk. No pressure, we don't even need to have sex-"

"Speak for yourself." Olivia blurted out without thinking.

"Oh, so now you are unopposed to sex? What happened to all those doubts the other night?"

Olivia lowered her voice, trying to sound as seductive as possible. "Fitz, we had sex last time, a lot. I've just accepted the fact that I can't say now to you…the things you-"

"Liv, don't play with me like that, or you are in trouble when I get to your apartment, which will result in sex, and then ruin us having an actually date. Shelly's. And I'm picking you up."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. This is going to be a really normal, proper date. So get dressed. And remember, short and tight."

* * *

"Abby!" Olivia yelled, running out of her bathroom manically. Her heart was overflowing with anticipation.

Abby looked startled, her mouth hanging open with confusion.

"What? You totally missed the shopping montage-" But Olivia interrupted her. She needed Abby out. She needed to be in that Marc Jacobs number that she had been hiding in her closet for years. She could wear her new shoes…

"I have a date. I need your help getting ready and then I need you to get the fuck out in about…oh, two hours."


	4. Pathway to Normality

"Jesus, Liv. Just shoot me already." Fitz said breathlessly as the familiar door of her apartment swung open, revealing Olivia to be wearing a body hugging leather dress that left very little to the imagination. The rush of blood that traveled to his lower regions was so violent; he could hardly contain proper thoughts. Let alone his sanity.

The apartment had not changed much since his last visit. Spacious, well decorated in light neutrals, he smiled at the memories of cuddling with Olivia on the soft comfy couch passed over him…

She smirked as she step to the side and allowed him in the apartment. He grinned widely at the complete look of satisfaction on her face.

"Welcome to my humble abode….for the millionth time." She said playfully. Fitz smirked shaking his head and taking a seat without her permission. He felt…home here. He had spent so many nights in this apartment. The old feelings of content and comfort were flooding back.

"Do you want anything?" Olivia asked politely sitting across from him and sexily crossing her legs. Her smooth, firm legs glowing in the dimly lit room's light. He wanted to kiss them, caress them. But he had to stay focus. He shifted in his seat.

"No." He said unevenly, still staring at her legs. But Olivia laughed.

"What?" He asked curiously. She shook her head as a playful smile graced her lips.

"Eyes up, Mr. President." She said jokingly as she stood up and walked across the room. It was then that he had noticed despite her sexy outfit, she was barefoot. He stood up and placed his hands in his pockets, trying to prevent his idleness from morphing into dangerous temptation. He wanted to run his fingers through her long, thick waves as he slowly peeled that dress off in order to his way with her.

"Oh, come on, Livy, I appreciate your…physique." He said jokingly as she opened her coat closet and stood there. He slowly made his way toward her, as she cocked her head to the side. He loved this. The casualness of it all. The fact that he could show up to her apartment with one Secret Service agent now, who was patiently waiting in the lobby. The fact that he no longer had an expansive motorcade. And most importantly, he loved watching his Livy contemplate what coat she wanted to wear without the constant countdown until his impending departure to the White House.

Well, maybe not as much as he loved her body in that tight little dress. How firm her ass looked…

"Mr. President?" Olivia said, spinning around, with an eyebrow cocked up.

"Mm?" He responded absentmindedly as his eyes traveled to her ample cleavage. The soft cocoa globes of her breasts, tempting him in a way that was making it very difficult to contain himself. He walked slowly toward her, his body doing the talking for him. But before he could touch her, she poked him hard in the stomach, surprising Fitz.

"Hey! Big boy, down. I just need to grab my coat and we are out of here. Go sit." She said laughing. Fitz smiled widely. The poke was a nice try but Fitz was a man on a mission. Sure, they would make the date, but he could not help himself.

"Babe, you look too good. What do you expect?" He asked, licking his lips.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I expect you to sit so I can decide on what coat to wear." She turned around and reached into the closet, pulling out a trench coat and putting it on. Fitz made an attempt to box her into a corner, but she quickly dodged, laughing.

"I'm going to get my shoes and purse and then we are out of here." She said laughing gloriously. He missed her laugh. The other night, she had not laughed much. As she sauntered to the bedroom, he followed her. She turned around, walking backwards.

"Fitz, this is a really expensive dress, one that I have been dying to wear for years. I rarely ever have time with my job to go out, unwind and have fun. And if you keep staring at my ass, you are going to burn holes through my dress." She said with snark as the reached her neat little bedroom. He laughed, leaning against the door frame as she walked around her bed and sat down, putting on her shoes.

Despite everything in his being telling him to have his way with Olivia, his will to behave himself and actually go through this date was too strong.

"In all serious Livy, you're driving me crazy…you know how I get with you. " Olivia laughed, standing up. Thanks to her very sexy and strappy shoes, she was at least five inches taller than she had been a few seconds ago.

She walked toward her vanity, picking up a small glass bottle and spritzing herself with a soft, sensual fragrance that made his thirst for her worst.

"Fitz, you are your own worst enemy. You ask me to wear something short, tight and sexy." She smirked at him as she grabbed her purse and made her way over to him.

He nodded. Stupid idea really. "Well, yeah…good point."

"Fitz?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do about the press? Shelly's is a well-known entity?" She sounded worried.

Fitz stared at her as she walked toward him, crossing her arms in that very "Olivia Pope" sort of way. Her large brown eyes were so expressive, that over the years, he could know what she was thinking without her saying a word. It was definitely something to consider.

He had thought about it on the car ride here. The truth of the matter was, he was a very popular ex-president. One that attracted a lot of attention.

His divorce from Mellie, while shocking to most in the press, had not generated as much controversy as he thought. It was a different time. An era of reality television and crazy pop stars that seemed a lot more interesting than the WASPy ex-First Couple.

In public, they had presented the image of two respectable adults on good terms, parting mutually with their children at the forefront of their concern. And while that was true, the nastier details, their mutual affairs, the fights over property, stocks and children had stayed largely out of the press, thanks to good attorneys and great PR people. They only spoke regarding the children and nothing else.

Mellie had settled in the Beacon Hill townhouse, where she had opened a small, yet elite private equity firm that focused on helping developing countries with their corporations.

Fitz, by nature of just by nature of being himself, however, was much more public. He was heavily involved in traveling for his thriving charity, _The Grant Initiative _whichfocused on more efficient ways to provide food and aid to war torn countries. He was the Republican standard bearer, often holding fundraisers for up and coming candidates, who wanted his popularity to rub off of him.

When he traveled in major cities like Los Angeles, London and D.C, he attracted attention at events. But when he kept a low profile, traveling with little security detail, in glasses, without the press knowing ahead of time, he could get away with keeping his privacy. There were always the few people. The political junkies who did double takes, who swore he was Fitzgerald Grant (He would emphatically deny it). But life had not been as chaotic as the White House years.

He understood Olivia's concern. But was it necessary?

"Liv, don't worry. It's just Hal and the driver tonight. Most people think I left days ago and we don't even have reservations. No one is going to know." He smirked, taking Olivia by the waist. He pressed his face into her neck as she giggled.

"Silly, we are in Washington D.C on a Saturday night. We both are public people. Living in a town of political junkies, reporters, some of who know us personally." Fitz laughed, trying to comfort her.

"Liv, I'll make you a bet. Every time someone notices us, I buy you a drink."

* * *

"Okay, at the rate we are going, I'm going to be drunk before dessert." Olivia said in a deadpan voice. So far, the date had been lovely. It was just like old times. They laughed, joked and talked about their work. Fitz loved listening to her work. Always fascinated to hear about the cases, the people and the scandals she dealt with. It felt good to talk about it with someone who did not work for her. And most importantly, it felt good to be normal. With Fitz.

Olivia loved hearing about his charity work. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke about finally feeling that he was finally doing something worthwhile. And while their date had put her on cloud nine, the constant stares from journalists, columnists and low level White House staffers, whispering loudly, and pointing at them was a bit uncomfortable.

Fitz, for some odd reason, was taking it in stride.

"Liv, relax, it's not a big deal." He said calmly, taking a hit from his cigar. He blew a perfect smoke ring. Olivia for a moment was distracted by how good looking Fitz was. How well his suit fit him, how his slivery tie matched his piercing grey eyes. How sexy him smoking a cigar was. Her brain was a bit fuzzy, but the unease of the staring people kept her from being too swept away in the moment. She took a sip of her scotch.

"Easy for you to say." Olivia rolled her eyes. But before she could take another sip, she felt something. A hard cool surface rubbing against her leg. She shifted around in her seat, thinking it was probably the table. But the table was wooden….

"Fitz! What are you doing?" She asked, when she noticed his handsome face spread into a big smile.

"Nothing that should make you worried." He said huskily, his eyes hooded as he leaned forward to put out the last remains of his cigar out.

As sexy as the gesture was, him doing it in public was not the brightest idea.

"Umm…the whole _Washington Post_ editorial page has practically been staring at us all night and you want to get frisky?" She whispered harshly. She could not believe him!

"You're so tense, kid."

"Don't call me that. Seriously, are you trying to cause a stir?

"No. Because I have a dinner with Editor in Chief of _The Washington Post_ tomorrow, at her home, with her husband Liv, get your mind out of the gutter. And if she and her pals want me to give interviews in the near future, or the paper at all, I can make sure no stories, blind items or otherwise appear in tomorrow's Sunday edition…or any edition for that matter." Fitz said smoothly.

There it was. Powerful, like a wave. It hit her all at once. How sexy was it that he had that kind of pull? Olivia had always been a woman of power, connections galore. She had gone to boarding school with monarchs, dinned with world leaders. She rarely ever met men who had the same pull. But Fitz was her equal in every way. And it was kind of, well…hot.

She leaned over, overtaken with a sudden desire to rub her foot against the soft fabric of his dress pants.

"Well, by all means, Mr. Grant, continue.

* * *

"I feel like such a tourist." Olivia said softly, as she ran a hand through her soft waves. Fitz smiled at her.

They were sitting at the Lincoln memorial, just staring over the Washington Mall. It was late. Well past 1 am in the morning. They had spent hours at Shelly's smoking cigars, talking. By the end of their night there, they were exchanging kisses, Fitz was rubbing her thigh and she whispering provocative things in his ear. There was something so liberating about the whole thing. Sitting in a public restaurant, flirting, and being themselves. There were the inevitable stares. But he did not give a damn.

It had been his idea for them to take a late night stroll on the Mall. He used to do it as President, when times were unbearable, when Mellie would kick him out of the master bedroom. When he could not be with his Livy…

It was a logistical nightmare, but he made it work back then. It was liberating to not worry about all of that now.

"Good, that's the whole point. Being normal, like everyone else." Fitz said as he wrapped himself around Olivia. She snuggled into him. Warm and small, fitting into him like a glove.

She smiled. "Normal…what is that?"

Fitz laughed. He did not know. But he was looking forward to finding out. It was a breath of fresh air. Literally. To be staring at the night sky, with the majesty of Lincoln behind him.

"Normal." He began whispering in her ear. "Normal is us having a good time in public. Us putting all the bullshit tomorrow behind us."

He kissed the lobe of her ear as she moaned with contentment. "Well, it's a start in the right direction. I loved tonight, but I got to say, the Lincoln memorial as normal as it is, kind of a downgrade from the White House. A bit cheesy?"

Fitz's heart warmed. He could hear the sarcasm in her voice. She turned around to look at him. He loved how the light of the memorial illuminated her beauty.

"No. It's classic. It's what the _normal _people do in D.C. They walk the mall, kiss on the Lincoln memorial." He said huskily as he laid a soft kiss on her lips. She responded eagerly, opening her mouth to allow him entry.

Her kiss was electric to him. Despite all this time, she could still make his toes curl. She broke apart from the kiss and winked seductively.

"Personally, I'm a Jefferson kind of girl, but there would be an uncomfortable irony in making out there." She said jokingly.

Fitz rolled her eyes. "Good point." But before he could lean in and capture Olivia's lips, there was a squeal that came from behind him.

"Oh…My…God, Olivia Pope! You are like my idol!" Fitz spun around to see two young girls, presumably of college age. One was blond, the other redhead.

Olivia smiled graciously, standing up. Fitz turned back around to avoid any more excitement. The girls seemed overcome with excitement.

"Hi girls. Nice to meet you. Are you guys' tourists?" She asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"No, we work in the White House, interns. But it was really cool meeting you."

"Yeah totally."

"We don't mean to interrupt your date but…

"Can we have a picture…"

"Please?" They finished in unison. Olivia laughed, winking at Fitz and walking around him. He heard a few flashes, giggled of "OMG" and "This is so cool!" He loved this. It was great that they did not recognize him.

After exchanging a few words, and finally goodbyes he heard one of the girls whisper to Olivia. "Your date is really hot! Good for you."

Fitz swallowed his laughter as Olivia walked toward him and smiled widely.

"And to think, I'm on a date with just the 'hot guy'". She said mockingingly.

He stood up smiling. "It happens all the time, people ignoring me."

Olivia laughed out loud. "I'm sorry about that." But Fitz shook his head.

"Don't be. Believe me, if I had a dollar for every time that happened, I'd be a very rich man."

Olivia smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Number one, you already are a very rich man."

"Is that why you are sleeping with me?" He cocked his eyebrow playfully, winking at her. She giggled, running her hand through his hair.

"Absolutely. Come on, let's get out of here before someone recognizes you."

"Wouldn't you love that."

"It would make a lot more sense. So are we headed back to the Ritz?" Olivia asked, her eyes dancing in the moonlight.

Fitz chuckled. Normal…

"No, we are headed back to your place. We are going to have coffee, and then…dessert." He said, his voice dropping as he laid a kiss on Olivia's forehead. Her smile was broader he had seen it in years…"

"Nice. But don't normal people kiss and depart to their own places. You know, normal women don't sleep with their dates after a first date." She said jokingly.

He sniggered, rolling his eyes. " Come on, Olivia, we aren't that normal."


	5. Those Three Words

"You know, when you said we were having dessert, I didn't realize you were going to take that seriously said softly.

Olivia bit her lip. Smiling wide. She ground her hips into him, teasing him. She could see the flash. The widening of his pupils, the light hit his eyes at just the right moment. She knew him. And even if she were not in her favorite lacy red La Perla lingerie set, feeding him his favorite treat sensually she would know how he was hanging over the proverbial cliff. She loved teasing him, winding him up and driving him crazy. She liked the flash in his eye. The point of no return that followed with him turning into someone else…

"Shut up, and eat it." She said seductively, her voice overcome with longing for him. She dangled the plump, chocolate covered strawberry over his mouth, not lowering it far enough for him to just bit into it. The flash circled his piercing eyes once more.

"I would be able to if you weren't gorging me with sugary confectionary." His voice hitched at the word 'sugary'." Olivia giggled as he reached his head up and took the whole thing in his mouth.

"Number one, lover boy, this is just as much your idea as mine. You said normal. And what normal couples do after romantic dinners, walks on the Mall are the things that we are doing now."

Fitz smirked as he shifted around underneath her. Olivia could not help but admire his technique. She was straddling his stomach. He purposefully moved her lower on his body, so she could get the full brunt of his desire. The feeling of him, waiting stiff and potent, made her weak. The familiar heat washed over her lower body, manifesting in a pool of excitement, soaking her lacy red boy shorts.

"And what are we doing now, is it normal?" Fitz asked as he softly stroked her thighs. Olivia could not focus. His touch was too distracting…"

"Mm…I….saw it in a movie once." She said pathetically as her lids lowered. It was amazing what just sitting on top of him did to her body. But before she knew it, he had flipped her over and she was lying on her back. She opened her eyes to see him spreading her legs, slowly caressing her left leg….

"Ah…" she moaned.

"What if I said I did not want to be normal anymore. That I wanted to be us…" He whispered this so quietly, that Olivia could have sworn he was hissing. Her head fell back at the touch of his lips to her ankle. It was a soft, feather kind of kiss. Teasing, yet so satisfying.

"Fuck, I wouldn't care.. Just do what you want." She moaned in a strangled voice. Her skin was abuzz with excitement when she opened her eyes. The sight of him kissing up her leg, the fact this his focus was on her, and only her.

"Well, maybe we should be normally a little longer." He teased when his mouth finally reached her core.

"Maybe you should shut up and eat me." Olivia said provocatively.

There it was. The final flash, and with little hesitation he granted her wish.

* * *

His mouth was heavenly. Made for her. The way he lapped her up, kissing, sucking and licked her to the peak of her sexual mountain was astonishing. He took his time, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of her warmth without getting to her throbbing numb too fast.

The fact that he worshipped at her altar so effectively that every inch of her body was doused in sweat, sticking her to the bed reminded her of why he was so dangerous. He knew her. In a way no one else would. And he always would. She figured after all this time, he would forget, get rusty. But he did what he always did when they made love. He made her see stars.

"Oh…God!" She said through gritted teeth as the tension built up. He held her legs down as they shook. She couldn't take it anymore.

And just like that she had exploded into a million pieces.

Her breathing was sharp and shallow, her body, addicted to him craves him more. She needed to have him, or she would lose her mind.

He kissed up her body. She turned her head giving him access to her neck as he buried his face, softly kissing.

Before she knew it, she was full, and he was moving in her, at an agonizingly slow pace. She could not decide if she wanted him to go faster, or stay at his current pace. It was all too overwhelming.

"Fuck…" he moaned into her neck. "You're so tight."

"Umm…" she grunted incoherently. She could not stop herself. His touch, everything was too much. Her brain was completely wrecked with pleasure, divulging to a night years ago.

"I love you."

It was as if he read her mind. But instead of the words providing her comfort when he said them, like a desperate plea for her to say the words back. It was not that he had not said them before, but the sudden realization of those words had hit her too hard. She was too open, exposed emotionally. It made her weak, the walls of any discernible type fell, just like they had in the Oval Office so long ago, and just like they had the other night.

Her eyes popped open. "No." She said softly as he continued to make love to her.

"Mm…"

"No, stop, stop!" Olivia said frantically, squirming. She could not do this. Not again. She could not let him. The other night had been about pleasure. He fucked her. He never got around to making love to her because at that stupid phone call. She refused to allow herself to be at his whims again. No more hurting…

"What?" He said confused, as he pulled out of her. Olivia grabbed the sheets and covered herself with them. She felt so exposed.

"I can't do this." She said, her voice cracking. Fitz was staring at her as if she had lost her mind. But she did not care.

"What the fuck, Liv?" he asked, breathing heavily. There were tears building in her eyes. Her vision getting foggy. She shook her head, as she became wracked with emotion. Her body betrayed her as it shook with hysterics.

"I…can't."

"You can't what?" He asked softly. "Liv, look at me, look…at…me. What can't you do?"

She sobbed as he tried to console her.

* * *

They never finished making love. For what felt like an eternity, Olivia cried, a deep and desperate cry as Fitz held her, not understanding the root of her tears. She had since calmed down, awake and lying on her side as Fitz flipped through the channels of her television. The televisions noise had served as a much needed distraction.

"Are we going to talk about this?" Fitz asked as the television abruptly stopped making noise. He had turned it off, much to Olivia's dread.

_Great, here it goes. _

"Do we have to?" she asked lamely, her throat aching from all the crying. Her back was to him so she could not see his face. But she could hear the concern and most hurtful, the anger.

"Well, let's see, you burst hysterically into tears during sex, and you haven't uttered a word in almost two hours. I think talking might be necessary."

Olivia sighed. She might as well face the music. She turned over to encounter a stone faced Fitz. His eyes were laser focused. She could not even pretend to look away if she wanted to.

"Look, I have some issues obviously." Olivia said in a deadpan voice. Fitz rolled his eyes.

"Understatement of the year." He shot back coolly. Olivia was annoyed. She had no patience for his petulance. She angrily removed the sheets and made an attempt to hop out of the bed. But before she could, she felt a vice like grip on her arm.

"Fitz, let me go."

"No. We are talking about this whether you like it or not!" He said. "So you can talk, or I can hold onto your arm until it turns numb. I'm not playing these games with you anymore Olivia. So you either say what you mean, or I walk out that door, and never come back!"

Olivia's mouth fell open as she sat back down on the bed. It had been a long time since she had seen him this upset. There was no mistake the tone in his voice.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid you are going to do." Olivia said tiredly.

Fitz's face had still looked determined. But his eyes betrayed a level of understanding.

"Is that what that was about?"

* * *

They would spend the rest of the night talking. He dressed and she in her robe. They sat in the kitchen to avoid the temptation of jumping into bed once again.

"Sex was always our way of dealing with our problems." Fitz said frankly.

It was hurtful for Olivia to have to relive the pain of him leaving her all those years. They had made love in the Ritz. Long and sensually. He had exhausted her. Sneaking away in the middle of the note. A note that said he would always love her. A note that gave up on them, on her. A note that expressed his regret for starting the affair. Taking the blame for that hot night years ago when she went into her room.

He ended it. Coldly, without a phone call, without a word. She told him. How she had been paralyzed for days. How Abby, her good friend and co-worker had found her trapped in bed, catatonic with grief and hunger. How she could not go into work for weeks, and ended up in the hospital for exhaustion, suffering from a breakdown.

"Liv, I never knew-"

"It's okay." Olivia said shrugging. "You did what you had to do. For your country, you kids…your wife."

"My ex-wife."

"Sure." Olivia said coolly. Fitz stared at her mouth open.

"Do you really think? After all this time that I don't care?"

"Why did you pick up the phone the other night?" Olivia asked aggressively. "Do you know what that did to me? It took me back-"

She choked. He took her hand, but she snatched it away. He looked devastated.

"Liv, I didn't know! I wasn't thinking." He tried to excuse himself. She knew he was telling the truth. She just did not want to believe him. She wanted to make him pay. He looked so hurt. Small. Ashamed of his actions.

"Join the club." Olivia said softly.

Fitz sighed deeply. "Look, I know you are upset. But how about I make us some tea. You look like you could use it." He tried. He knew it would take some time. She could hear it in his voice. She nodded.

"Everything is where it always is." Olivia said, watching him as he stood up and made them two cups of green tea. He opened the cabinet to presumably get a spoon for sugar when she heard him gasp.

"What the…"

It all came back to Olivia. She felt her cheeks redden. She had suspected at some point, Fitz would spend the night. So while Abby was helping her get ready, she hid her toy, fearful that he would stumble across it. She never anticipated them spending an evening in her kitchen.

"Look, Fitz can you-"

"Wow, Liv, I didn't think you were the type?" He said matter of factly, as he pulled out the pink vibrator and twirled it in his hand. Olivia was horrified.

"In my defense, I didn't realize you would-"

"A vibrator Liv?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, I'm no whore. I'm human and have needs. Okay?" Olivia said embarrassed, her mood lightening up a bit. Fitz was mocking her. "Just put the damn thing away!"

"So, how does this…wow. This seems like a lot to take in." He said smirking as he playfully stroked it, making her laugh.

"Well, your bigger-"

"I know."

"Shut up and put it back!" Olivia said running toward him, grabbing it and putting it back in the cabinet. Much to her horror, Fitz started laughing hysterically.

It took him a while to gain his bearings as Olivia continuously whined things like "It's not funny!" and "Stop laughing."

But they laughed together. Olivia was unsure why the whole situation was funny, but it definitely had brought much needed levity to the conversation.

"So, when you-"

"Do we have to do this?"

"Look, I'm curious. I think it's hot." He said his eyebrows raised as Olivia rolled her eyes smiling.

"Fine, just get it over with."

He smirked, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "What do you think about while your…cooking, if you want to call it that."

She rolled her eyes once more. He knew the answer to that question. He just wanted to see her squirm. And she was not giving him the satisfaction.

"I'm not answering that. How do you get your rocks off?" Olivia sassed back, folding her arms as he laughed.

"That's easy. I close my eyes and think of Sharon Stone crossing her legs in _Basic Instinct_. " By the playful glint in his eyes, Olivia knew he was kidding.

"How corny." She said smiling at him.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"I don't have to because you know the answer." She said softly, her smile fading.

"Well, in that case, my sexual fantasy consist of you eating an ice cream cone." Fitz said huskily.

Olivia was bemused. That was a bit odd.

"An ice cream cone? Golly, Beaver. I didn't realize you were so square."

They both laughed.

"No, the reason I fantasize about you and ice cream is because it reminds me of that day at the state fair…"

Olivia knew from his tone and demeanor of which day he spoke. It was during primary season years ago. He was campaigning at a state fair, the day after they had been together for the first time. She was eating an ice cream cone on a hot day…she remembered catching him staring as she licked the ice cream, teasing him in her own special way. In a way no one else knew. It was their first of many private moments in a crowd of people.

"And to think, I thought you didn't care."

"If you ever thought that, you are crazy. I've always cared. I still do."


	6. Shock and Awe

Olivia sat in her office, enjoying Abby and Huck's meticulous research and report on her new case.

The case in question was easy, and odd. A group of hacking vigilantes, mostly of college age who attended her alma mater, Georgetown, were targeting Republican Congressmen's' email accounts. So far there was nothing particularly embarrassing, except a high-ranking member of the Senate member's affinity for mailing his fellow Senators perverted cartoon memes.

They were planning on exposing the information on a website, with an already purchased domain, Real Scumbags.

Not a very creative title but she would live. A simple injunction and a good scare for these kids would end all this.

As she flipped through the individual reports on the students, she heard a knock at the door.

"Abby, hey, glad you're here, have you seen…" Olivia trailed off. She looked rather bemused, but the reason was not entirely lost on Olivia. In Abby's hands, were at least three dozen tulips, white. Olivia smiled.

_The G-20 summits were exhausting. Fitz hated traveling so extensively. He got irritated, jet-lagged and annoyed. The constant need for translators was also a pain in his ass. So when Olivia had intervened in an awkward moment during a private dinner at the Spanish ambassador's residence, she had expected him to be impressed. And she expected him to be grateful…._

_ "Mm…fuck that was so hot." He said in between ferocious kisses. She was pinned against his door, drunk with his presence._

_She turned her head as he sucked on her neck. The spot, right behind her ear that made her knees weak…_

_ "Fitz, I had to do something. Your Spanish is dreadful…" she said, her voice heavy with husk. _

_He ground his hips into her, hitching her dress up as his big hands ran up and down her thighs._

_ "Well, Ms. Pope, since my Spanish is so dreadful, I want you to teach me." He said, as he found her lips again._

_ "Mm…" Olivia moaned in his mouth as he grabbed her rear with gusto. But Olivia would not let the night end, with her pinned up against the door. She had a better idea. She pushed him off aggressively, smirking at him. _

"_Espere aquí mismo, señor." She smiled as she took his hand and guided him to the plush king size bed._

_The gleam in his eye, the reddening of his face was unmistakable. _

_ "I have no idea what you just said, but don't stop." He said huskily. Olivia smiled._

_ "Silly, I said, wait right here. I have a surprise for you." _

_ "Yeah?"_

_ "Si, senor."_

_Thanks to a little creativity, and a beautiful display of white tulips in the bathroom, she did surprise him. In nothing but a white tulip in her hair. When she walked out, the look on his face was that of pure, unadulterated lust._

"_¿Querría jugar con mi tulipán? ¿El Sr. Presidente? …" Olivia said provocatively. _

"Liv, you are doing that thing again." Abby said, snapping in her boss's face as Olivia snapped out of her haze.

"Huh?" Olivia said daftly as Abby placed the large order of flowers on her desk.

"That thing, where you drift. So I'm going to take a wild guess and say this is from my least favorite of your ex…well, I can't really call him your ex-boyfriend, but your ex-person. Here!" Abby said, handing Olivia a beautiful white envelope. It seemed really silly, but Olivia was giddy with excitement. Ever since Fitz had left, Olivia's feelings and thoughts were in constant battle. At times, she would be irrationally mad at him, refusing to even acknowledge the few days they spent with one another.

Despite their very naughty telephone conversation before work this morning, she had moments of doubt. Maybe they were moving too fast? Maybe it was the company, the humor, and the out of this world sex that was clouding her judgment. But there were moments, like his last night in D.C when he took her out to dinner and the opera. When he called her Sweet Baby….

They had parted ways, not spending the night together due to his early flight. But the night had been so perfect…

"So are you going to read the card?" Abby asked, hands on her hips, with her lips pursed. Olivia smiled. She opened the card, speed reading it, then reading it out loud.

"My dearest Livy, thanks for making my week worthwhile. While we've had our valleys, every minute I was in your presence, was a peak. I can't stop thinking about you (or that phone conversation. I love it when you speak Spanish) so as a token of my appreciation, I have send you this, a reminder of the first night you spoke Spanish to me.

P.S, Yes, I adore playing with your tulip, Liv. Can't wait to play with it the next time I see you. Yours Truly, Your Love."

Olivia was grinning like an idiot. But Abby scoffed. "What the hell was that?"

"It's an inside joke." Olivia said, leaning back in her chair. "What?"

Abby shook her head slowly, smirking. "You guys are so perverted. Something tells me your 'tulip'…" She put the word tulip in air quotes. "Is not one of these flowers."

"No, it's not." Olivia said wistfully. "Gosh, isn't he just…" But at Abby's cocked eyebrow, the butterflies in her stomach suddenly stopped flapping her wings.

"Seriously, Liv? Seriously? Remember what we talked about?"

"Yes. But it's not like this is some guy Ab, it's him. He and I just…have this over the moon, unhealthy addiction to one another. I would love. Absolutely love to be one of those women, who could cut him out of my life-"

"But you did, for years. You were finally getting to a good place. Just play it smart. Because the next time I catch you in the state you were in the last time he left, I'm chopping is presidential goodies off." She said warmly. Olivia nodded as the giddy feelings subsided. The high of Fitz's romantic gestures were fun. But Abby had a point. While they had gotten some things out into the forefront, there was still a lot left unsaid. Issues to be dealt with.

"I agree Abby. But for just five seconds, can we just dwell on how good he is?" Olivia said as she took in the heavenly fragrance of the tulips.

Abby smiled, shrugging. "I can't deny, the man's got style. But focus." Olivia nodded.

"Are you going to call him?" Abby asked. Olivia did not know. Should she?

"He might be in a meeting or something, he's got this-"

"Meeting with the UN Ambassador to Indonesia about poverty in Asia in regards to his charity. What? I watch CNN International?"

"Sure, I'll call him. That's not for another few hours."

"Need me to leave?"

"Seeing the direction our conversation took this morning, it would be wise for you to leave…"

And with that, Abby scurried out the room. Olivia laughed as she picked up her phone, dialing his number. It was amazing that she had already memorized his cell phone number.

"Hey you." Olivia said flirtatiously.

Fitz laugh was music to her ears. "Hey yourself. Miss me already?" His tone was that perfect mix of flirtation and authoritative.

"You wish."

"I do."

Olivia giggled. But before she could answer, Huck knocked on the door. Olivia mouthed. "In a minute." He nodded knowingly and left.

"So, how's your day?" He asked, genuinely curious. "Any D.C madams to protect?"

She could practically hear him smiling over the phone. " I wouldn't joke about the Patrick Keating thing."

"Too soon?"

"Oh yeah, way soon." Olivia said jokingly as she leaned back in her chair. She could just imagine him now, on his plane, reading briefing papers. Wearing his reading glasses…

"What are you wearing?" He asked, softly.

"No way! We already had that conversation this morning. I'm busy! I have a new case and I'm in the office."

He laughed. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time you did very bad things in your-"

"Anyway! I called to thank you for the flowers. And wish you luck on your meeting today."

"Thanks. But a better thanks would be me getting a good idea of what you are wearing."

"Down boy. I'll call you later, okay."

"Fine. But we are definitely continuing the conversation…, and remember I'm a very cunning linguist Liv."

His voice, the double entendre was way too much. She abruptly hung up the phone before she ended up doing something stupid.

But before she could fan herself with her report, Huck walked into the office.

"Hey." He greeted with a head nod. Olivia stood up gingerly, trying not to give any indication of what had just occurred.

"Hi, anything new?"

"Yeah, that's what I had to talk to you about. I was hacking the email address the kids have been using. And I found something…interesting."

Olivia looked into Huck's soulful eyes. She knew him, very well. Probably better than others did. And she knew when he was saying something that concerned her.

"What?"

"There's some stuff. Emails between the former First Lady and a Congressmen from Texas."

Olivia swallowed hard. As much as she would like to think it was all innocent, she knew from the look on Huck's face, that it was serious."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Romantic emails…and some of these emails go back ten years."


	7. Love, Always There, Never Enough

_Fitz had one of those weeks that made it impossible for him to think straight. There had been a friendly fire attack in Afghanistan, the monthly jobs report was middling at best and his approval rating was hovering barely at 50% for the first time in a long while. The upside of his week was not the week itself but what he had to look forward to. Mellie had been out of the country for two weeks, doing a tour of Europe and Asia, giving speeches on the importance of education for young women, and promoting her cause of literacy. _

_Luckily for Fitz, he had been able to arrange a nice, two day get away with Olivia. The trip had been under the guise of a president taking a much needed break. After all, Mellie would be joining him, along with the children in a few days, just in time for Thanksgiving. _

_The true nature of the trip had quickly unraveled. Sure, they had both arrived at Camp David, cranky, overworked and incredibly lust crazed. But that was no excuse for what just occurred. _

_For the first time since he and Olivia had begun this affair, throughout the breaks, false starts (and even Amanda Tanner), he had felt…cheap._

_Was it even possible for a man to feel like a sex object? _

_Olivia had barely even said "Hello" to him. An hour, multiple orgasms and many emails later, the love of his life, had made him feel like crap. _

_He stared at her as she paced back and forth in the room, clad in his dress shirt. She had been on the phone…with Stephen…_

_He was not sure of what they had going on, but anytime his presence was even acknowledged, he felt an all-consuming flair of anger. She claimed they were only co-workers, friends. But he was always suspicious of their relationship. How quick she was to divulge secrets with him, how anytime they started a conversation involving one of her many secrets, from work to her frustrations, they were always prefaced with "I already told Stephen, but…" _

_For the last few minutes, he had laid idly in the bed, waiting for her to wrap up the conversation. But she did not seem like she was letting up soon. His anger beginning to get the best of him…_

_He through off the covers angrily stormed over to Olivia and grabbed the phone out of her hands. He clicked it off. _

_ "Hey!" She yelled as he scolds at her. _

_ "Do me a favor, the next time you want to spend my time on the phone with that guy, do it somewhere else and on your own time. And another thing, don't hug him, I can smell his cologne on you when I'm fucking you." He said coolly, gently tossing her cell phone on the bed as he stormed into the bathroom. _

_He knew that he had pissed her off…_

_As Fitz made his way into the shower, he could hear Olivia's footsteps gaining behind him. But he didn't care. _

_ "Hey!" She said as she came bursting into bathroom. But he ignored her, taking solace in the shelter of the sparkling white tile and the scolding hot water. _

_But Olivia would not let up. She knocked on the glass door of the shower door, her petite frame blurry from the fog of the water. _

_ "What are you doing?" _

_ "What does it look like I'm doing?"_

_ "Well, a few seconds ago, I was contemplating whether I should go back to Washington, now if you will excuse me; I am taking a shower, could you please close the door?" Fitz said bitingly….._

Jealously…Fitz thought as he swirled his glass of scotch around, the amber liquid spinning along with the ice. His biggest hurdle he would have to overcome.

It was a quiet night on the Grant Ranch, one of those nights where the solace of his private study was necessary. He had been working at a grueling pace since his week in Washington D.C. A pace that had not really allowed him to dwell on Olivia….

But sitting in his office, going over the evening papers had somehow made him nostalgic. But unfortunately, it had not made him nostalgic in a good way.

It would be nice to sit and pretend as if his time with Olivia in the past was heavenly. It was what he used to do before the prior week. To think about the sweet stolen kisses and the secretive weekends at Camp David had sustained him through the long and lonely years in the White House. But the fighting, the outbursts, the jealously had always been slight hiccups in their relationship. Fitz had always been naïve enough to believe that with his marriage out of the way, and his legacy secured, his relationship with Olivia would be perfect.

In every sense, Olivia was everything he wanted. Beautiful, smart, with sex appeal that would make any man weak in the knees, and as flawless as he would like to pretend she was she was not.

She could be hot and cold, one minute, fiery and passionate, the next afraid to even say "I love you". She could be incredibly selfless, to the point of absurdity, always putting everyone, including Fitz's needs before her own. And worst above all, her inability to understand Fitz's possessiveness.

He took a sip of his drink, increasing the fogginess of his mind. She did not seem to understand how afraid he was to lose her love and affection. How frightening it was that she could one day wake up and no longer love him.

_ "You are oddly calm." He said to her, wrapping his arms around her as she sorted out the paper work that night._

_She turned around, smiling as she cupped his cheek. "Please, slutty congressional staffers are the least of my worries. And besides, I spend a lot of time with men, it does not mean anything…" _

That morning in her White House office had been another glaring example. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was even childish. But he needed to hear her to care. He needed her to drop the exterior of being "Olivia Pope" and just be his Livy.

His Livy was the woman who once appeared behind closed doors. The one who reveled in his love and adoration, who was confident in having a future with him someday, who once confessed that she fantasied about having kids with his eyes…

But then she left…

The Amanda Tanner debacle had made her a little colder, and very skeptical. He could see the distrust in her eyes, the desperation when the affair had once again picked up in her love making. As if she was doing everything to hold his attention.

Fitz took a big gulp, and leaned back in his chair. The sensation of his brain fogging from his scotch calmed him as he closed his eyes. But as he did so, he could not imagine Liv the way he wanted. He wanted to imagine her, in his arms, naked, wet from a sensual hot bath.

He wanted to see her smiling widely at his jokes and clever puns. But the comfort of the quiet night and alcohol did none of that.

What he encountered in his stroll down memory lane was painful memories. The last time he had made love to her years ago at the Ritz, how angry he felt at her inability to say those three words, how she never missed an opportunity to throw his marriage to Mellie in his face.

And then there was the argument last week when he answered Mellie's call.

A sudden unease rose in Fitz's throat, though it had nothing to do with too many drinks…

It had suddenly hit him. He had spent so many years idolizing Olivia, her virtue, her grace and her beauty. He loved her, unconditionally without question because their affair early on, had offered the tiny frame where they could leave all their less desirable traits out the door, and there he had been perfect in her eyes. He always would love her and still loved her so much it hurt. He craved her presence in his sleep, missing the opportunity to wrap his arms around her tiny waist. It was a love that knew no bounds…

Or at least he thought.

What if Olivia saw his faults as being too great to overcome? What if she held the hard times against him? Did she still see him and think "Amanda Tanner?" lies, hurt and the man who had left that night at the Ritz because of her refusal to make the promise he needed to hear?

From the conversations in Washington, it was clear that she still had her reservations. She still had that look of fear whenever he whispered "I love you".

How long could he do this? How long could he wait for her to trust him again? To not jokingly dismiss his feelings as nostalgic pinning? How long was she willing to hold out on them when their future was so broad and far?

He leaned forward, opening his eyes, which conveniently landed on the phone. Oh the phone. Their escape from the world's hardships when life was shackling them away from each other. He checked his vintage Rolex. It was well past midnight. But he knew his Livy…

_She's going to be up. _Fitz thought as he picked up the phone and began dialing her number. It was second nature despite only a few days of knowing it.

One ring…

Two rings…

"Hello?" Her voice answered. He smiled. Her mouth sounded full.

"Hey." He said, slurring slightly.

A giggle. He could hear chewing. She loved to eat popcorn and watch reruns of that stupid medical drama where all the doctors hooked up with one another.

"Hi". He said, reinvigorating their old call and response.

"Hi."

"How was your day?" He asked slowly. For some reason his tongue was not corresponding with his brain, making it sound as though he was drunk. She giggled once more.

"Fitzgerald, why do you sound drunk?" She asked, providing much needed levity.

Fitz could not answer that. He was still on his second glass. Why was he drunk?

"I…don't know." Fitz said lamely, he tried to think his thoughts were swirling with nothing but images of Liv in her silky white bathrobe and her hair pulled beautifully away from her face.

"Hun, did you eat dinner?" Olivia asked concerned.

Right. Now that Fitz had thought about it, he had completely forgotten to. He had been preoccupied with phone calls, meetings and catching up on the evening papers, that he ignored the grumbling of his stomach and took the edge off with a very tall glass of scotch.

"No?" Fitz answered a tad bit confused as Olivia laughed heartily.

"Fitzgerald, you know better than that. How many times have I told you about drinking before you eat? You get all woozy."

Fitz shrugged, putting his head down on the mahogany desk. "Sorry, but this is why I need…you. I'm so much better when you're around; you take care of me…"

There was silence for a long while. Fitz allowed it to breathe, but he could practically here the hitch in Olivia's breathing when he said this.

"So how is everything?" Olivia asked with false cheer. Fitz laughed.

"Good, busy. Blair is up my ass about doing this joint venture project on Mid-East peace. Karen recital was gangbuster good, got to spend quality time with the kids and…yeah. How are you doing?"

Olivia giggled once more. "Good, nothing to report."

Fitz leaned in his chair. That was odd. "Really, nothing to report? Ms. Pope, I'm shocked."

"Yeah well, nothing you need to know about. But getting back to your alcohol problem-"

"I don't have a problem. I'm a WASP. Drinking scotch late at night while on the phone with a beautiful woman is pivotal to my existence in the world." Fitz joked, slurring slightly. This triggered a laugh from Olivia.

He smiled, warmed by her laugh. "I miss you." He blurted out suddenly.

"I miss you too."

"But you know what I don't miss?"

"What?"

"That stupid show I know you're watching?"

"Which one?"

"The medical one, with the whiny chick. Fuck, it's annoying. Karen was practically sobbing the last time she was here. Luckily Brandon and Jerry had the sense to make fun of her for it." Fitz said sluggishly.

"Whatever, it's my guilty pleasure, suck it."

"I'd love to, but unfortunately you are halfway across the country. Speaking of which, what are you doing next week?"

Olivia snorted. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "The same thing I do every week, Fitz."

"What, try to take over the world?" He joked. She sighed.

"So lame, I could see that joke coming from a mile away. Anyway, I'm working. Why do you ask?"

Fitz shrugged, closing his eyes. He needed to see her again. But this time, the right way. No hotel rooms. He was inviting her to the ranch. They'd cook, spend time, and go horseback riding. But most of all, he needed to know that Washington was not a fluke. That they could really work this out.

"How about you come out here. One week." He said softly. Her breathing labored. She was debating.

"How would I-"

"I would fly you out. Don't worry about flights. I just want to see you again."

There it was again. The pause. The trepidation. She was trying to wiggle a way out of it. Actual intimacy or the possibilities.

"Liv, Congress doesn't take this long." He joked.

"Why?"

"Why doesn't Congress take this long?" He asked clueless, still wrestling to stay coherent through the haze of alcohol.

She sighed deeply once more. "No, Fitz, why now? I mean we just-"

Fitz sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Liv, I'm not going to keep doing this."

"Doing what…exactly?" Olivia asked slowly, with her voice rich with trepidation.

They were the old routine. He pushed, she resisted.

"This, the old dance we do. You reject me and I push and push until you give in. And frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. We are adults. Single adults, with the liberty to do whatever the fuck we want, or at least I have the liberty. If you want in on actually being happy, and making us happy, then call me tomorrow by noon, if not, then I never want to hear from you again. But I'm serious Liv. No more games, and no more lies. Is that clear? I can't go through the pain of constantly being hurt by you anymore. I'm too old for this shit."

Fitz said this all sluggishly, but the conviction in his message was not lost. He did not even bother to wait for a response. He hung up the phone, and leaned back in his chair, once again allowing his mind to travel to years past and knowing deep down that she would call.

At least he hoped.


	8. Nostalgia on Arrival

Olivia had always prided herself on having immense will power in her life. She had dedicated hours of her childhood to studying hard, when her friends would play outside. On summer vacations in the Vineyard during her adolescence, she would wake up at the crack of dawn, jog along the beach for two miles and study her SAT words. And in college, she had avoided the propositions of boys, instead focusing on lectures, notes and parlaying her 4.0 GPA I and high LSATs into Yale Law School.

Life had always been a rigorous pattern of hard work and delayed gratification. That was until a very handsome presidential candidate came across her mist.

There was something about Fitz that brought out the rebel in her personality. On the campaign trail, during his presidential run, she would put off data analysis and nightly conference calls with Cyrus in exchange for mind blowing sex.

Her old law school habit of smoking cigarette returned during her White House years. She and Fitz, like an old married couple would spend hours late at night going over policy and talking in the Oval Office while smoking and sharing a stiff scotch.

She smiled at the memories of times past.

_Fitz inhaled deeply, masterfully blowing a series of smoke rings, Olivia shook her head, laughing. _

_ "What?" He asked, his eyes glowing in the dim light of the Oval Office. _

_ "You are such a show off. Now, can we get back to talking about this budget discussion with the Democrats? You know that's going to be a pain in the ass?" She said, putting out her cigarette in the crystal ash tray. _

_Fitz rolled his eyes, sitting back in the large leather chair and putting his feet up on the Resolute desk. _

_ "I'm tired of talking…" He said softly, giving Olivia the once over. She felt her body flush with excitement. She bit her lip, trying not to complete melt. _

_ "Fitz, we are in the Oval. Behave." She said standing up and stretching. _

_He chuckled softly. "Don't worry. I'm too tired to try anything. Not to mention, you never known who is going to walk in. _

_ "Right, the twenty three people who stay late because you are here may stumble upon us." She sassed._

_He stood up and took her arm, bringing her close. She felt the tingle of his touch heighten her senses. His eyes were bruised from lack of sleep, his hair on end from constantly running his hands through it because of the day's frustration. But she still thought he was the most handsome man in the world. _

_ "Where is your laptop?" He asked huskily. There was something amazing about the fact that he could asked the most mundane question and still seem so…sexy._

_ "What?" Olivia asked incredulously. She had a vague idea of what he wanted the laptop for, and that was hardly any more appropriate than what she had warned him against a few minutes ago._

_ "Liv, it's not what you think, jeez…can't a man want to dance with the love of his life without being a pervert?" He joked, assuaging her worry. She laughed out loud._

_ "Sorry, I don't know why my mind went there." He laughed as she pulled out her MacBook and opened it, opening her music library and hitting shuffle._

_She took Fitz's big hands in her own, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently swayed with him to the soulful and sensual melody of "These Arms of Mine" by Otis Redding._

_She rested her head on his broad chest, floating in the embrace of his love as he placed gentle kisses on her forehead, hopping that someday, they'd be able to sway like this on their wedding day. _

Olivia shook herself out of her walk down memory lane as the black Lincoln Navigator chauffeuring her came to a familiar stop. The expansive drive way of the Grant Ranch was in full view, stretching out beyond her view. Plush greens, the view of the mountains and then there was the beautiful white main house…

* * *

It felt good to be here….

Olivia was bored. The housekeeper had no idea where Fitz was and he would not answer his phone. She had been skimming through channels for the past hour, contemplating calling him again. It was a bit strange. Here she was, had flown all this way, and he was not home…

But then it all came to her. It was a beautiful California day, with no one in the house….

She jumped out of bed. Why did it take her so long to figure it out?


	9. Battle of Heart and Mind

As beautiful a day as it was, she hated walking all this way. It was too hot, and the grounds of the house too expansive. She suddenly missed D.C. She wished she had changed out of her Armani suit, but she was too far away from the main house to change now.

But before she could walk any further, she could hear a thundering sound from behind her. She whipped around so fast that her hair smacked her face.

There he was, in all his glory, riding a beautiful chestnut stallion with vigor. It was amazing that after all these years, he still had it. The view of him, muscular thighs clamped to the side of the horse, focused and determined was a sight to behold. But as he got closer, she waved her arms wildly, signaling her presence. She could see him suddenly alert to the sight of her when he pulled the reigns, coming to a gracefully stop in front of her.

"Hi!" He said, smiling down at her. Olivia suddenly felt really hot and it had nothing to do with the heat or the beaming sun. It did not help that his eyes were glimmering and his tan was very prominent. She could even see the freckles forming on his aquiline nose.

"Hey…so you weren't even going to bother letting me know you were home?" She asked, raising her hand to her head to block the shade. He shook his head.

"There's no need. You knew where I was, didn't you?" He asked jokingly. "A little rusty, but I won't hold it against you."

Olivia nodded. "This is true. So are you going to spend all day up there, or are you going to come-?"

But before she could finish her sentence, he hoped off the horse.

"Come on." He said as the restless horse heeded to his pull. They were headed toward the stables.

Olivia struggled to keep up with him, taking off her blazer to reveal her sweaty gossamer blouse. She saw Fitz do a double take as she threw her blazer over her shoulder.

"So, how was your flight?" He asked. Olivia shrugged.

"It was okay. Nice jet by the way. It's no Air Force One, but it will do. Speaking of new things, I don't recognize this horse?" Olivia said motioning to the stallion. It was beautiful, with a lovely soft coat and kind eyes. It had a nice demeanor and was so calm Olivia would have completely forgotten it was in their mist.

Fitz smiled softly. "I got it a few months ago, from a nearby ranch. Nice couple, but they were too old to ride anymore. They've been married for 60 years."

He stopped and turned to look at Olivia. She felt a shiver down her spine at his gaze, focused, intense and very pointed. She should have seen that coming. Considering the way their last phone call ended, it was inevitable. She shifted around nervously, running a hand through her messy locks.

"Look-"

"Forget it Liv, its fine. I'm just glad you're here. But honestly, what are you wearing?" He asked smirking as he took off again. She struggled to keep up with him as they approached the stables.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

But it made sense when the plush grass of the fields gave way to the muddy surrounding of the stables, which were full of hay and seriously ruining her Prada flats.

"I mean…" He said leading the horse into its compartment and shutting it. "What's with the work attire?"

Olivia shrugged. "I thought you liked the way I dressed?" He laughed as he wiped his hands on his jeans, motioning for her to follow him back to the main house.

"Livy, I don't care what you wear. You're beautiful either way. But this is California, and most importantly, this is a ranch. So leave the designer clothes for D.C."

She watched as he removed his gloves and removed the saddle from the horse with a kind of ease that was a bit unsettling.

Olivia rolled her eyes, frustrated at the heat, and Fitz's snarky comments. It was not like she had planned to sweat through her clothes. She had anticipated a friendly and warm welcome. Not a scavenger hunt around the grounds looking for him.

But was she really that upset? After all, she could not deny, he looked good. Too good. It was as if their week in D.C had never happened. It was as if time had not gone by. A man his age should not look that amazing in jeans and riding boots. A man his age should not have shoulders that broad, or forearms that muscular. But here she was following him into the house, consumed with lusty thoughts. And yet it was sort of frustrating the kind of hold, physically he had on her. It was not fair.

She sped up, trying to scale the hilly path to the house. She was sweaty and sticky, and very beside herself. Between her muddied flats and her profuse sweating, her outfit was entirely ruined. This was not helping her mood anymore. She was growing more agitated by the second, frustrated with Fitz's devil-may-care attitude, especially since he had practically blackmailed her feelings.

After he had hung up on her, Olivia sat in complete shock, mouth open as her mind went through a spin cycle of confusion.

She had always worn the pants in the relationship. Dictating everything and never showing her hand. It was the way she had kept from completely losing her mind over the years. She knew that if she so much as gave Fitz her whole being, she was done for…

Had she been that transparent?

As they finally reached the main house, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief, practically pushing Fitz out of the way. The cool welcome of the kitchen when she entered felt like heaven, but much to her dismay Fitz started laughing.

He had a deep, rolling laugh, one that came from deep. His eyes twinkled and his face reddened. Normally, she found this sort of thing endearing, even adorable. But the flares of anger radiating from her were spreading fast over her body.

"What…is…so funny…" She said through gritted teeth as he finally settled behind the granite countertop and grabbed a bright shiny apple from the fruit basket and bit into it with a gusto.

He chewed slowly rolling his eyes yet looking satisfied with himself.

"You look completely ridiculous." He said softly, playfully winking at her. Olivia sighed with exasperation.

"I bet you love every minute of this, aren't you." Olivia said bitingly. "Me, just making a fool out of myself."

She tossed her ruined blazer on the counter and fanned her herself with her hands. More smiling and apple eating was Fitz's response.

"Well, it's a welcomed change, I can tell you that. And what I will also tell you is Miranda, the housekeeper, spent days cleaning this house. You will notice she's left since you've been outside with me. You see, I gave her the week off. So what you aren't going to do is throw that-"At the word "that" he pointed at her discarded blazer.

"…on the counter. Now, since you seem so…wet, you are more than welcomed to take a cold shower. "

Olivia stared at him. She knew him. Better than anyone. And she knew when he was being suggestive. But two could play that game. The light around his pupils was unmistakable. The emphasis on the word "wet" was not merely a rhetorical embellish, it was a question. A proposition.

Olivia was frustrated, annoyed, and most importantly confused. She knew what the intent of the trip was. They would try and work things out and move on.

But how could she? With all the things that were left unsaid? Sure it would be nice to just jump in a shower with him and find out how far his tan really went. But she could not do that.

Not after what she found out about Mellie. Not when she knew more than she could handle about just how toxic Fitz's previous marriage had truly been. How did she start all over with a man who did not know just how deeply he had been hurt in the past?

"Well." Olivia sighed deeply, grabbing her blazer and stalking out the room. "I'm going to take a long shower. Alone. "

But before she could reach the hallway Fitz called from behind her "Make sure you mop up your muddy footsteps when you get out."

* * *

"You know, this is not exactly the way I imagined spending my time here." Olivia said taking a bite of her roti. Her mouth filled with savory taste of spiced chicken and the vegetables. The velvety night sky was beautifully dotted with stars as a nice evening breezy washed over them.

They were having a picnic, something that felt so surreal in the grand scheme of things. A few hours ago, she was on a plane, hand wringing on whether she should have flown out here. But sitting here, peacefully eating this delicious meal with Fitz was suddenly making her very grateful she had picked up that phone.

Olivia was used to seeing Fitz as being authoritative, behind a desk, in the Oval Office. She saw the lover, in hotel rooms, whispering sweet words. She rarely ever saw the man. The man behind the power, the suits and the planes and so far, she was impressed. He was a person. Just a man, one who she could talk to, one who she could see a life with.

He was a lot calmer, not as intense and laughed easier. He was self-reliant, studious and clearly addicted to the outdoors. Not to mention, a very impressive cook. She had seen glimpses before, but to experience one glorious day, without interruptions, in their own little world was jarring.

"Well, this is typically what I do on my spare time." He said kindly, taking a sip of ice tea. Olivia smiled, sitting back on her heels.

"I'm not used to this…you know. I don't know if I'm ready." Olivia confessed. Fitz looked confused at her observation.

"What do you mean?" He asked, leaning back on the soft picnic blanket. She looked at him. Was this a preview into the future? A life of horseback riding, peaceful nightly picnics and Middle Eastern food cooking sessions? A life free of the stresses of Blackberries and clients? She took her time drinking in the moment in, loving the way he looked in his plaid shirt and dark blue jeans. She wanted to snuggle into him, taking her old spot in his arms. But the voice in her head resisted. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved him. She had always loved him and always will.

She could not shake it if she tried. But was she ready to love that deeply? To really confront the issues that plagued their relationship? Was she really ready to tell the truth?

"Liv?" Fitz asked, taking her hand and stroking it. She was slipping into the confines of her feelings, as her heart's pace quickened at his touch.

"I forgot how beautiful your hands are." Olivia said absentmindedly. There was a moment of silence, where they just stared at each other. She secretly hoped it would be enough. That her overwhelming love for him would be enough. It was building. The tears, the regret, the fear….

"Liv-"

"I'm sorry." She said shakily, and without warning hopped up and took off, running back to the main house. She ran faster than she ever had, the feeling of the blades of grass tickling her bare feet. Her heart pounded with vigor.

* * *

She was restless later that night. She could not sleep. Her mind was whizzing at a million miles an hour. Her throat was dry from hours of crying.

Lying in the guest room, alone with nothing but her thoughts was haunting. She knew he was mere steps away from her.

Olivia knew she could not go on like this. It would drive her insane. Maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe she should not have come out here-

But before she could drive herself down further the well of despair, a loud knock came at her door.

_Dear lord…_she thought, panicking. It was him. He had let her be, not as much as texting her to see if she was okay. At least after all these years, he understood her need for space while feeling overwhelmed.

At least until now.

"Liv, open up." His voice came softly, yet firm. His knocks were infrequent but persistent. Olivia could no longer fight the urge. She could no longer hide under the soft covers and the moonlight. It was a bit ridiculous in theory.

Her heart was a magnet to his. The pull was beyond anything comprehensible. It was crazy. Was she that afraid of being happy?

"Come in…" she croaked. The door was never locked. Deep down, secretly, she knew that he would come to her…he always did. But she knew that these would become less frequent. He would not always come to her.

She did not bother to turn around; she did not bother to uncurl from her fetal position. The comfort of hearing his heavy footsteps was enough. He knew her as she did him. There was no need for the pretense, the false apologizes for impoliteness. She needed him. Heart, body and soul. But her mind was caging her into the despair of loneliness. The sorrow of being without his love.

He climbed into her bed, encasing his warm body around Olivia's she turned around into him and wrapped her arms around him. She relished in him. The presence. Feeling his heartbeat, the softness of his lips as they pressed against her forehead. His muscular arms enraptured, telling her that he was never letting go. That he would always be there, whether she liked it or not.

The thought made her want to cry. But she no longer had any tears left. All she had was her love for him.

"I love you." She whispered softly, pulling away from him and looking him square in the eye.

"What?" Fitz asked confused, his shock glowed in the moonlight.

"I love you. So much, it hurts. I think about you when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. And I need you to understand that I don't run away because I don't have feelings, a…that's not what it is. I just…"

"Take your time, we don't"

"No. We have to do this now, Fitz. I have to tell you that I love you. I…I want you to know that because you need to hear me say it. I drove you away. This is my fault. We are like this because of me. At the end of the day, you gave me an out. Do you remember what the out was?"

Fitz nodded gently. "Yes, I told you to go to your room."

Olivia sighed with relief. "Exactly. I had the choice. I've always had the choice to say no. But I don't. And I'm tired of half assing this. You have always given us a chance. When I never did. So I'm here. I'm in your room. The ball is in your court. I love you. And I know you loved me, and I know you care-"

Olivia would not finish her sentence. Fitz took her in a searing kiss. A kiss that stopped time, it stopped all the trepidation, the doubts and the worries.

But before Olivia could reach out to do anything else, Fitz grabbed her wrists, triggering a bad case of Deju vu for her.

"I didn't love you Liv." He said softly. "I've always love you. Present now, always. Don't say loved. Because loved implies its stop. It doesn't stop with me. No matter how many times you run away, I will be there reminding you that I love you. Still and always."


	10. It's morning in California

Fitz in his life had experienced his fair share of fantasies. The perfect day, filled with sunshine, horseback riding and swimming in the lake.

He had his fair share of sexual fantasies, many of which involved Olivia in various levels of undress, however the scene before him, blew the rest of them to shreds. He did not want to move, because he feared if he did. If he inhaled, if he walked any further, he would wake up from what could only be a dream.

There she was, in cutoff denim shorts and a snug black tank top. Her hair, a waterfall of thick, full waves was just calling for his fingers…

"Good morning." Olivia greeted brightly, her full lips spreading into a wide smile. It was too much. And to add to just how perfect this picture was, Olivia, his Livy was cooking breakfast. In his kitchen! Cooking! The savory smells of butter, bacon and the rustic warmth of coffee was permeating through the room.

"Don't move." Fitz said smiled. Olivia cocked her head, confused.

"Umm…I kind of need to check on the bacon, so too bad." She said, moving around with an ease he had never seen before. She lacked the intensity he normally saw. This morning, she was easy going, with a spring in her step.

It was funny how life turned out. How years of wanting something so bad, could just culminate into moments of harmony, he walked up behind her and embraced her, burying his face in her neck.

"Mm…" She moaned softly, as she tended to the sizzling pieces of bacon. Her body relaxed, melting at his touch. He ran his hands over her taut stomach, he could sense her smiling.

"Would it be weird to say this is the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed?" Fitz whispered in her ear. Olivia turned around, facing him, her brown eyes aglow with happiness. It was a refreshing change from yesterday…

"Oh, yeah and why is that?" She asked, playfully grinning at him. He pushed his body closer to hers, eliminating any pretense of space. He leaned his forehead towards hers.

"You are in my kitchen…cooking. Something I didn't even know you could do. It's like the celestial choirs of the heavens started singing when I walked into the kitchen this morning."

Olivia laughed, throwing her head back. "You were always a man of hyperbole."

"I thought I was a man of the people." He smirked, rubbing her shoulders.

She turned around and continued her cooking, turning her back to him. He stood there, loving every minute of it. He loved her soft skin, glowing from the day's sunlight. He loved the way she bit her lip when she was focused on something. The arch in her back, the elegant length of her neck…

"So I'm not sure if you are a fan of biscuits…"

"Biscuits? What are we in Kentucky?" Fitz joked, as he began playing with the waistband of Olivia's shorts. His fingers lightly grazing her hips, which was clearly breaking her concentration, considering the fact that her eyes were fluttering and she moaned softly.

"Stop, Fitz. You know I'm a southern girl." She said swatting his hand away playfully with a spatula.

He rolled his eyes. Olivia was hardly anyone's definition of a girl, let alone a southern one at that.

"Yeah, sure." Fitz said, taking a seat behind the granite counter top. Olivia smirked, putting her hands on her hips. He shook his head.

"What does that mean?" She sassed.

He could not help but laugh loudly. The Olivia Pope he knew hated, barbeque, country music, and would spend most of her time on campaign trails complaining on the accents of people down south. Anything remotely "heehaw" freaked her out.

"Liv, you hate everything about the south." She rolled her eyes, as she began dishing out plates of food.

"I grew up in Virginia."

"Arlington doesn't count. Especially the elitist enclave you grew up in."

"I resent that!" Olivia said her eyes wide with mock outrage. "Mr. Multiple properties. At least I didn't grow up with the freaking Kentucky Derby in my backyard."

Fitz rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Anyway, what's with the sudden cooking bout?" The spread was incredible. Fresh fruits, bacon, coffee, and yogurt.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I woke up, went for a run this morning. I did some paperwork that I brought with me and then I suddenly got hungry."

His hunger was suddenly becoming very different as she took a bit of a very plump strawberry. He loved how her lips housed the piece of fruit before biting into it.

"So where are these amazing-"

But before he could finish his sentence. She turned around, bending over and pulled out an expansive tray of fluffy biscuits.

He was a man of a big appetite. But he suddenly was too distracted by her rear as she bent over. The image was playing over and over again in his mind. Last night, had been all wrong. He loved the fact that she was so open and exposed emotionally, but she had been pretty closed off physically. His other appetite, the impulsive, sexual appetite that Olivia always triggered was hungry for flesh. He had done as honorable a job as possible, keeping his physical yearnings at bay.

But this was all becoming too much. He was seeing red. And if he didn't do something about it, he would explode.

"Fitz…Fitz…do you still want it?" She asked, waving her hands in his face. He snapped out of his haze, blinking profusely. She looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"What did you ask me?" He said, clearing his throat. His body was suddenly hot; he could feel his arousal rising…

"I asked you if you wanted one, but you…" She trailed off, looking searchingly at him as if trying to understand the sudden change in his mood.

"Liv…"

"Do you want…something not on this table?" Olivia asked slowly. Her eyes were aglow with sudden realization. She knew him better than that.

"Why do you say-"

"You have that look."

"What look?"

"The one you get, when you…get… worked up…And seeing that there isn't anyone in this room that you want to violently beat up, I'm guessing the only other reason you look like that is because you want to-"

"Fuck you senseless." Fitz said nodding. She shook her head understanding.

"Um…wow. Yeah. It's not like I don't want to. But we still have a lot to talk about. I mean, we haven't even talked about whether you want biscuits for breakfast let alone last night." She seemed slightly flustered. Almost like she was flattered beyond belief, which if it were even possible, made him much more worked up than possible.

He no longer had control of his mind. It had been completely taken over by his desire to have her. It had been too long. The whole thing, her cooking, last night, was too tempting to resist. He walked around the counter, grabbed her firmly by the hips and kissed her. It was one of those kisses that made both parties dizzy with need. He loved every second of it, her lips, her tongue, and the way she moaned when he ground himself into her.

"How about we make a deal. Give me a couple of hours, and then we can, talk."

"But what about breakfast?"

"Fuck breakfast."

* * *

"Oh…my…god…." Olivia sighed deeply, licking her lips with contentment. "I think you fucked my brain out. Honestly, I should hire a search party and look for it."

Fitz smiled. "I've been known to have that effect on women." Olivia rolled her eyes, sitting up gingerly.

The marathon sex session was comical in retrospect. Any conceivable position, every curse word had been exchanged. It was an interesting way to exorcise the demons of their relationship. Maybe not the most mature way, but it was what they did best.

"Hey you, where are you going?" Fitz said, softly stroking her bare back.

She shrugged. "Nowhere." The sun was hitting her just right. It was as if she were glowing.

"Now I remember why I love you in white…" he said hoarsely as she turned around to look at him. She winked, shrugging again, allowing the white sheets to fall off her, revealing her perfectly round breasts.

"So are we going to talk?" She asked, running her hand through her messy hair. It was wet with sweat.

Fitz did not want to wake up from this dream. He did not want to cope with reality. He never even wanted to leave this room. All he wanted to do was revel in the last few hours. He leaned forward, laying gentle kisses on her back, triggering a string of moans. But before he could do anything else, she seemed to snap back into reality.

"Fitz I'm serious. We need to talk about last night." She said firmly. He pulled away, leaning back on the headboard, closing his eyes.

As much as he always pressured Olivia into being more open about her feelings, he was enjoying the simplicity of them just enjoying each other. He did not want to return to her crying, her sad, him feeling as though he had somehow failed her.

He suddenly understood why she constantly would pull away. Her tears.

"What…do you want to actually-"

"Where is this going?" She asked, turning around and folding her legs. Her eyes were still a bit red from her violent orgasms.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean where we go Fitz. Last night, we talked, about our feelings, about Amanda Tanner and stuff, and while that's great, we need to not only talk about the past but the future. I'm not getting any younger and you are…well…mature."

Fitz laughed. "Liv, it's not a secret I'm older than you. Please-"

"Fine! You are older than I am. Happy."

"Loads."

"Anyway. I have a career, I'm successful and while I love you, and I love making breakfast for you, I don't want that to be my whole life. I love this house. And I'm sure we will create many memories together in it? I can't change my entire life… for you. I mean, I don't know how this is going to work with you here and me in D.C. And what about the kids. I mean, Karen and Gerry will need to know about us if I'm going to be in your life. Will Mellie be okay with her kids being around me?

She looked as though she had been bursting to say this. It was not something he ever really entertained. But she made good points. Olivia was, well…Olivia. He never really thought too much about their future in that regard. He lived in the moment, always fearful that his time with Olivia, like in the past would come to an end to fast.

However, those days were gone. He was a divorced man with two very gregarious children and a contemptuous ex-wife. He lived a very busy life, one that racked up a lot of flyer miles and public events. How would a relationship work? He could not just fly in to D.C a couple of times a week. He wanted the full Monty. Mornings together, sex in the afternoon (when they could find the time) and a home together.

"Well…I've never really weighed the options." He admitted. Olivia sighed.

"Exactly. And as lovely as this was, sex will not fix all of our problems."

"I know. But… I want to know what you want." He asked kindly, taking her by her arm and pulling her toward him. She cuddled into the crux of his arm, lying on his chest.

"I want…you. Entirely Fitz. I refuse to be second fiddle anymore. I want a real, normal people relationship."

"There goes that 'N' word again." Fitz said with mock melancholy in his voice, triggering a giggle from Olivia.

"Yes Fitz. We have to be normal. We are grownups now. We have to start acting like it."

"Huh? Grownups, I've always thought of myself of a…veteran of childhood." He said jokingly as Olivia turned to face him, resting her chin on his chest. She smirked.

"Funny. But seriously. How do we do this?"

Fitz smiled at her, rubbing her back as his mind worked slowly. It was an excellent question. How did he do this?

"Well, for starters, I start looking at real estate in D.C."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I would fly out a few times to California for business. Do you want to move in together?"

Olivia blinked profusely. To say she looked stunned on belief was an understatement. "Liv?"

"Lord, have penance." She said, hopping up with excitement.

"I didn't know you were religious."

"No, it's not that but, I've never imagined us…actually talking about this?"

Fitz was confused. "Well of course. We are grownups, remember. That's what normal couples do."

"You don't say." Olivia said shell shocked. "So what-"

But before she could finish her thought, a ringing came. It was his cell phone. He had an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. But this time, he knew better than to answer it. But Olivia shrugged.

"Go ahead. I've already cum anyway. Just don't answer my phone while you are in me, and the tears stay locked in." She said jokingly. He chuckled, grabbing his phone and answering it without even looking at the caller I.D.

"Hello?"

"Fizzy!"

He palmed his face in his hand. "Hi mother."

"Hello, son, how are you?" She sounded elated for some reason.

"I'm fine, just taking a well-deserved break. Are you backing from St. Bart's?"

"Oh, yes darling, it was marvelous. Delightful people really. So, what are you doing?"

Fitz looked at Olivia who mouthed "Who is it?" He rolled his eyes and mouthed back. "My mom." She nodded knowingly.

He loved his mother. Honestly. She had always been one of the most important people in his life. Easy to talk to, kind and loving. An effective campaigner for him during his presidential elections with a political astuteness that rivaled Olivia's.

But she could also be brash, entirely inappropriate and a little to blunt for his taste. This had happened more so after his father had died years ago. In her loneliness, she had taken up exotic traveling, bizarre habits like bungee jumping and skydiving. He was convinced that she had suffered a very belated mid-life crisis.

"Oh, you know the usual. Just…"

"Fizzy, do you have a woman yet? Honestly, I worry about you. A man your age should not live life without having-"

"Mother! I'm not discussing my sex-"

"But I worry, you work all the time, it's only healthy. I remember what your father was like, always horned up. Your young-"

"I'm 50, hardly a spring chicken. Look, mother is-"

"Look, I was hoping you could help me with my luggage." She said suddenly. Fitz's brain stopped working suddenly. What the hell?

"Why would I do that? You are all the way in-"

"Surprise! I'm right outside the gate. I thought I should visit you! Bake you your favorite pie, horseback ride. I have so much to tell you. I might stay for a week, maybe three."

"You are here?" He asked incredulous. This was all wrong. His perfect week was going to hell in a hand basket. This was not supposed to happen. Much to his dismay, Olivia was giggling uncontrollably, her fist in her mouth to keep from making too much noise.

"Of course, come out to say hi to your Mummy. Or do you want me to-"

"No!" He yelled. "Stay. Stay right there. I'll be out in a second." He hung up.

"Can I just say I love your mother? She's awesome!" Olivia said laughing herself senseless.

"It's not funny."

"Suit yourself."

"Come on, let's get dressed before she burst into here and starts giving you pointers on karma sutra." He joked.

"Well, I don't think we need any pointers." Olivia said, rolling out of bed and starting to dress.

Fitz rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess, this is what happens to normal people. Meeting the parents."

Olivia laughed. "Yeah, you bet. So I guess this means we have to keep it down during sex for the rest of the week?" She winked at him.

"Knowing my mother, that should be the least of our worries."


	11. It's Awkward in California

"Olivia, this is a serious problem. I've been trying, but the injunction is a no go. We need a backup plan. And these kids are getting more and more persistent." Harrison said in a rushed voice over the phone. Olivia felt her stomach drop. The sudden warmth of the California sun no longer existed. She was enveloped in a cold fear. Her heart was pounding at a rate.

This was the last thing she had anticipated happening. Losing such a winnable case to a bunch of college punks. For the past hour, she had been glued to her cell phone, strategizing and re-strategizing on how to go about the email hacking case. With all the positivity with her and Fitz, this was the last thing she needed in her life. This should have been done.

"Amazing, I leave town and everything goes to shit." Olivia said frustrated, running a hand through her waves. _Urgh! This humidity is terrible for my ends. _

Harrison laughed. "Speaking of which, what are you doing out of town anyway? We have an incoming tomorrow from Boston."

Olivia laughed, looking over the patio. She smiled at the sight of Fitz and his mother horseback riding through the fields.

"Well, I'm visiting an old friend. And I have some unofficial business to take care of. But enough about that, who's the incoming from Boston?"

"Don't know. But it sounds important. The whole thing was done through an assistant who was flown out here just to relay the message. So I would get my butt on a Red-eye as soon as you can."

Olivia weighed her options. She trusted her team. Abby, Huck, Harrison and Quinn were more than capable.

"Look, I'm here for only a couple of days okay? Push comes to shove, we do a conference call."

"If you say so, but it may not be that easy."

"Just make sure we get that injunction, and buy Quinn some flowers, you've been working too hard."

"Olivia Pope is encouraging me to have a social life? What's gotten into you?" Olivia laughed nervously. Saying six foot and three inches worth of handsome and old memories was a bit heavy handed.

"No one you should know about. Bye Harrison."

She sighed deeply, tossing her phone onto a patio chair. How could an injunction be this difficult to get?

* * *

"Mom, I really wish you would stop telling embarrassing stories about me to Liv." Fitz said flustered. Olivia laughed heartily.

It was a beautiful night and they were having dinner outside. The plush night, with the ink black sky dotted with magnificent stars was just heavenly. And so was the company. Olivia could not remember the last time she had laughed this hard.

Mrs. Grant was a riot. Loud, boisterous as Olivia had remembered, she always came armed with a good joke or a delicious antidote about Fitz's childhood. It was a welcome change from their interactions in the past, which had been limited to a few polite moments during Fitz's campaigns.

"Oh, Mrs. Grant, go on." Olivia said, spooning hummus into her mouth. Tonight they had gone Greek.

"No, please don't." Fitz laughed as he took a swig of wine. But the elder Grant could not help himself.

"So, we were all sunbathing, this is in Prague, so some of our friends, decide it's a good idea to take off their tops. And this is the 70's mind you. We weren't so hung up like these days. And my friend Marcy takes off her top. Here comes little Fizzy-"

"Mother, please…" Fitz said burying his face in his hands embarrassed, much to Olivia's delight.

She had never seen him squirm like this before. It was a joy.

"…oh, stop being such a killjoy. So little Fizzy, not a day over five, walks over to Marcy, grabs her tits and then says 'Wow, this is nice'." Olivia and Mrs. Grant fell apart laughing hysterically, part of it was too much wine on Olivia's part, but nonetheless it was funny. She was doubled over with laughter, her stomach aching from her glee.

She caught a glimpse of Fitz, shaking his head, flushed red with embarrassment.

"And…" Mrs. Grant started, her pretty face red with delight, as she tried to catch her breath. "…that is when I knew my boy was really a Grant. His father was the same way."

"With Marcy or with you?" Olivia asked curiously, her eyes widening with surprise as she looked from Fitz to his mother, who was running a well-manicured hand through her dark bob.

"Well, that's a story for another day." Mrs. Grant winked, suggestively at Olivia triggering a chuckle of delight. She adored his mother. She was so bold, and open, nothing like any of the women she knew. Her own mother, also a woman of privilege while a personal hero, was a model of ladylike behavior. Stories about toddlers grabbing breasts would hardly be dinner time chatter at her parents' home.

"Indeed. Sorry Fitz, I'm just…" Olivia said, smiling.

"It's okay, honestly. Mother is just being herself." He said shaking his head. "Just pass the Moussaka."

"Speaking of grabbing people's breasts, what's the sleeping arrangement?" Mrs. Grant asked bluntly. Olivia, who had been drinking wine choked. Fitz dropped his fork in horror. The flush generated from his embarrassment had disappeared swiftly.

"Umm…excuse me?" Olivia asked trying to maintain some kind of semblance of normalcy. She and Mrs. Grant had barely spent any time together today. Olivia had been working most of the day in the guest room, working. Other than them preparing dinner, there had been no opportunity for the elder Grant to gage their behavior. They had tried to be discreet. So she thought…

Mrs. Grant smiled widely, the dimples in her cheek becoming rather pronounced. There was a flash around her irises very similar to her sons when he had stumbled on a hard fought truth.

"Well, I had my suspicious but thanks for confirming them."

Fitz and Olivia exchanged looks. She knew what he was thinking.

"Mrs. Grant, I haven't the slightest-"

"Oh, honey, my name is Sloan. And besides, if you two wanted be discreet, you would not have left a pan of burning bacon in the kitchen this morning. I know my son, better than most. He loves bacon. And the only reason why he would allow it to burn is if there was…well, a distraction of some sort."

* * *

"I can't believe she figured it out." Olivia said, walking out of the bathroom. The rest of dinner that night had been, interesting to say the least. Dinner had been rather strange after Mrs. Grant had revealed she knew the state of Olivia and Fitz's….relationship, or sleeping arrangement.

"Yeah, who are you telling? I thought I had a good cover story going." Fitz said turning the page of the current issue of Time Magazine.

Olivia rolled her eyes, running a hand through her wet hair.

"What did you tell her?" She asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He smiled, looking over his reading glasses.

"Well, I told her you were taking me on as a client." He smirked suggestively.

Olivia's mouth hung open in mock horror. "You didn't, ew! That makes me sound like a hooker."

Fitz laughed, rolling his eyes. "What the hell? Is it not your job to take people on as clients?" Olivia shook her head, climbing up onto the bed and snuggling into Fitz. She turned up to grab the glasses off his face.

"Hey! I need those." He said jokingly as Olivia placed them on the bedside table.

"Hey, here we are in this beautiful house, with a great view and you want to lie in bed and read. What could possibly be so fascinating?

Olivia took a peak at the magazine in his hand. She laughed. He was being profiled.

"Are you on the cover?" She asked flirtatiously, sitting up.

He sighed. "Yup. Apparently I'm the Grandfather of the 'moderate Republican' movement in this country."

"Grandfather huh? Wow, between the glasses and that reference, I'm officially jailbait." Olivia said jokingly, winking at him.

She loved this. This was good. Peaceful, friendly and very comfortable. No fighting, no drama. Just lying in bed, next to him. This is what she used to dream about. The normality that she had often scorned suddenly felt like an old friend. Ignoring the absurdness of Fitz's mother's antics this evening, there was something very mundane about it all. A two people, a woman and a man, sharing a home and a bed. Didn't normal people have weird in-laws? Embarrassing stories relayed at the dinner table? Was this not what it was all about?

"Come on, I'm not that old." Fitz joked, putting down his magazine and taking Olivia's foot in his hand. Slowly, but surely he began kneading the balls of her feet with his knuckles. Olivia's eyes fluttered as she leaned back and enjoyed the calm of a foot massage.

"Mm…don't stop." Olivia moaned, closing her eyes.

"One day, and we are already a boring old married couple." Fitz voice came. She could hear the mirth in his voice. She smiles widely.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one, we were just arguing about my mother-"

"We weren't arguing, we were vigorously disagreeing-"

"You mocked my appearance-"

"I hate those glasses, I like the black trimmed ones better-"

"And the only moan I've been able to trigger from you was when I started giving you a message."

"Fitz, we had sex today-"

"Well, the least you can do is apologizing after laughing at me all dinner long." Olivia sat up, opening her eyes.

"You grabbed the woman's breasts, Fitz?" She cocked her head, he rolled his eyes.

"I was five! They looked nice." He looked so adorably exacerbated at the notion.

"How nice?"

"Well, not as nice as yours." He said flirtatiously, as he pushed her down onto the bed. Olivia squealed with delight.

"That's what I like to hear…" She trailed off as he settled in between her legs. Her skin was fire. She slowly felt that soft wave of pleasure overtaking her lower body when…

"Fitz, darling, where do you keep the ice cream."

"Mother, would it kill you to knock?" Fitz asked outraged. Olivia sat up to see Mrs. Grant's head, poking out from behind the bedroom door. How embarrassing…

"Hi, Olivia, having fun?" She asked jovially. Olivia could not believe this. Was the rest of the week going to be like this?

"Umm…"

"Mom, the ice cream is in the sub-zero, downstairs. Now if you could please-"

"Oh, sorry, continue."

And with that she left with a snap, leaving Olivia and Fitz to sit stunned in horrified stupor.

"Aaaand…there it goes."

"There what goes?"

"My hard on. For the next 20 years of my life."


	12. Memories of Old, Meetings of Dread

Olivia missed California. She had since she had touched down two days ago. For one thing, Washington was freezing, icy and snowy. The streets covered in winter slush. There was a grey blandness to the city that suddenly became very noticeable. Normally she loved the hustle and bustle of the city, loving the feeling of the bubble of the beltway.

However, the vibrant colors, sunny skies and expansive fields of Santa Barbara were calling to her.

_You just miss him. _She thought as she took a sip of her hot tea, as she stared out the window of her office to even more gloom. A grey sky, overcast cloud.

A knock came at the door.

Olivia placed her mug down and sighed deeply, practically dragging her feet to answer the door. She hated the fact that Fitz had this effect on her. Her world was literally gloom without-

"We have an incoming, but this client is a few minutes late." The door swung open. Quinn Perkins said anxiously, her innocent eyes wide with deference.

Olivia smiled. "I know, right? Have we been able to get anything on this mysterious client?"

Quinn shook her head nervously. "Other than this client has security detail and is coming in from Boston, nothing. We could not even track a flight. So my gut tells me this person flew in private."

Olivia smiled, shaking her head. She was impressed. Despite all her faults, her troubles, she was still an impeccable employee.

"Thanks Quinn." She checked her Movado watch. For some reason, her stomach flipped…

Of course, Fitz gave her this watch. She had worn it this morning because she had thought of him. The last time she had worn it was that night…

_Inaugurations were no small business. Olivia recalled the last time she had been intimately involved with Fitz's first inaugural. At that point she was a member of the staff, the team. The cable news spin, fighting with the committee over who was allowed tickets to what balls…_

_But his second inaugural was a welcomed surprise. She had the opportunity to enjoy it. To sit front row when he gave his speech, instead of unpacking her boxes at the White House with the rest of the White House staff. She had the opportunity to actually attend balls this time, instead of working…_

_Sure, she had to watch the First Couple dance over and over again. It was torture. However, the payoff was worth the wait._

_ "You look awfully chipper." Fitz said coolly. _

_They were once again hauled up in the Ritz, there were too many people in town that could possibly see them, but Olivia did not mind…_

_ "Well, I should be. Second term, Mr. President." She said, turning around and handing him a flute full of Cuvée Sir Winston Churchill._

_Olivia picked up her flute from the mahogany table and clinked her glass to his flute glass. _

_But he did not look thrilled. His content happiness had given way to that familiar look of loss. It was mournful. His lips downturned, his grey eyes, dull with dread…_

_ "Baby, what's wrong?" _

_ "That's exactly it, four more years of this bullshit…" He gulped down his drink and walked away from her, taking a seat on the overstuffed ottoman. _

_Damn it…_

_ "Well, on the bright side, it is only four years-"_

_ "Did you sleep with him?" _

_The wind was knocked out of Olivia. What the hell? A few minutes ago, they were fine, drinking champagne, talking about taking a warm bubble bath and now this? _

_ "What?"_

_His head was hanging. There was a cold dread overtaking her veins, pumping fear throughout her body and rendering her breathing labored. Her mind was racing…_

_He looked up at her, his eyes red with slight intoxication and anger. "Did…you…sleep with him after we broke up."_

_ "Broke up?"_

_ "Yes, broke up! When we were no longer seeing each other, last year, Thorn gate! During the luncheon today, guess who I ran into?"  
Olivia gulped. She could not breathe. Edison…_

_ "….Fitz, no, it's not-"_

_ "Do you love me?" He asked softly, staring up at her. The sight of him was painful. Shoulder slouched, his hair tousled. He had long abandoned his tuxedo blazer, but was still dressed in his dress shirt and pants. He looked so handsome. How could a man that handsome look so pained? _

_ "Wh-What?"_

_ "Do…you…love me...?" He asked slowly, not blinking. His eyes which had always doors to his soul were all she needed to know. Why was he doing this? Ruining his night? Their night?_

_She swallowed hard. "What does that have to do with anything?" Olivia asked shakily, trying to sound casual. But the pain…_

_The helplessness in his face when he asked her that question was haunting…every line in his chiseled features was more pronounced. And she was sure she had put quite a few of those lines on his face over the years._

_ "You can't answer the question Livy? Come on. You've been through this test before? The great Olivia Pope, always full of answers, always a bastion of integrity, the paradigm of virtue-"_

_ "Fitz, you have had too much to drink-" _

_ "So its Fitz now, what happened to-"_

_ "Look, this is not the time-"_

_ "So when is the time?"_

_ "When you're not married! Then and only then do you get the right to yell at me about who I sleep with! And for the record, after that apple cheeked dead slut you screwed, we are even."_

"Olivia?"

"Huh?" She answered stupidly, blinking rapidly. Quinn was staring at her as if she had been seeing her for the first time.

"You zoned out. And have been staring at your watch for the past few minutes." Olivia mentally shook herself out of it, walking back toward her desk and taking a seat.

"Do you need me to get anything for you? More tea? An aspirin?" Quinn asked softly.

"No, no, no. I am fine."

And with that Quinn left.

Why was this happening? Why the flashbacks? Why now? The past week had been good, more than good. Great. Hell she had been floating on cloud nine. Fitz and she had a great time on the ranch. His mother was lovely; they had gotten along, despite a rocky start, what the fuck?

_Keeping secrets…._

Her gut was telling her something. She felt an unexplained since of foreboding and he had no idea why. She was antsy, distracted. She missed him. That was it. She had been too used to waking up next to him, making love until dawn, cooking dinner, playing cards with Mrs. Grant…

She was drumming her fingers absentmindedly on the desk; she looked over to her phone. The shiny black office phone with all its numbers. How many phone conversations had she had with him through the years on phones?

There had always been different kind of phone conversations….

Sometimes there was the late night call. The most common. From the White House…he missed her, was probably overworked, Cyrus was getting on his nerves, and so had the Speaker of the House, Sally Langston or whomever he had to meet with that day.

"_I fucking hate his guts, Livy. He acts like he owns the place."_

_ "Well, hun, he sort of does. The man was practically born in a congressional hearing."_

_ "Well, that doesn't mean I don't want to wring his neck."_

There were the funny calls. When they acted like kids, telling stupid jokes, gossiping about D.C's elite.

"_They dated?"_

_ "Yes. For like four years."_

_ "They dated?"_

_ "Fitz for the last time, yes."_

_ "Gross!"_

_ "You know, I worry that you are still five at heart." _

_ "She has an atoms apple."_

_ "Fitz, that's totally uncalled for and you know it."_

_ "Liv, it is bad enough that the man is a bloviating ignoramus-"_

_ "He's not; he's just a bit bellicose."_

_ "Liv, the man calls me a pretty boy shyster every night, he's a bloviating ignoramus."_

Then there were there were the sex calls. No salutation. No greeting. No "How was your day, I missed you, I thought of you today." It preluded with "What are you wearing?" "I can't stop thinking about that time…," Flirtation galore.

Whichever time was sexy to him at the moment…

The White House…

Blair House…

Her office…

That time she had flashed a garter at him while crossing her leg during a meeting and he had rewarded her with a frenzied fuck in her office. It took the edge off…when they could not see each other.

_"Mm…babe you were so good that day."_

_ "So were you. I was sore for days."_

_ "From the desk or from me."_

_ "Both."_

_ "Sorry, I get a bit carried away."_

_ "Don't be. I love it when you're rough. "_

When did she stop getting these flashbacks? When did she finally let the painful memories go? She thought she had left the baggage in California?

_That's why you hate being in Washington…too many memories of the bad. The good memories were elsewhere. The tawdriness of phone sex, secret meetings permeated through the city. _

This was true. A lot of the bad had happened in this city.

_Chirp…chirp…_

There was the phone again. Ringing away. It was probably him. She stared at it, nervously. Her hand shook violently as she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Olivia?"

She gasped. She knew that voice. It was a voice that haunted the very depths of her soul. The demon of her mind. Those times in the White House when she and Fitz were in a compromising position and she could hear the clicking of her kitten heels…

"Mellie?" she answered nervously. "What the…"

"I'm going to be there in a few, the car was a tad bit late."

"Late for what? How do you even have-"

"Olivia, silly, late for my incoming? Or that is how your assistant described it to my assistant. I'm your client."

The world fell away…everything got blurry.

No wonder she missed California.


	13. Part II: Here we go again!

**Months later…**

The story of Mellie Grant's run for the Massachusetts Senate seat had been buzzing around Washington D.C for weeks. At every turn, when Olivia bought the newspaper in the morning on her way to work, when she went to cocktail parties, watching the Sunday morning political chat shows…

When she was having breakfast with her boyfriend, while on a vacation. Although, vacation, seeing that she was still working was an understatement.

It was one of those glorious spring days in Martha's Vineyard, specifically Oaks Bluff. The ocean breeze was just right, the sun was up and the flowers were in bloom. Tucked away behind plush greens and flower gardens, it was in this summer home she had honed her social and political skill. She had watched her mother, the consummate socialite schmoozing with the powered elite. Her father, the formidable former senior Senator from Virginia, cutting deals with a smile and a kind word had taught her the art of flattery. Luckily her parents were out of the country and she still had the keys.

It was only appropriate that she brought Fitz here. So he could understand her world. Not to mention, it was very private, with absent neighbors who only vacationed during the summer. But being in Massachusetts right now made sense...

The past few months had been a heavenly trip. Fitz, always busy, had been hard at work with his charity, recent trips to North Korea to free detained campers on behest of the Langston administration; however, he always took a few days out of the week to fly into Washington to visit her. Their relationship had grown substantially, leaps and bounds from the days of hotel rooms and phone sex.

There was the romantic trip to Rome, the skiing in Vermont with Karen and Jerry, where the revealed to the kids the new status of their relationship and her frequent visits to the ranch in California on her days off.

However, they had not exactly gone "public". They would attend state dinners, charity events and weddings separately, very mindful of being seen or suspected.

Part of it had to do with needing to get settled into being a couple. But as Olivia watched Mellie Grant on CNN being interviewed about her position on taxes, she was reminded why private for now would have to do.

"Which one?" Fitz asked her, holding up two ties, one red, and one blue. Olivia looked away from the television and toward Fitz. He looked dashing this morning. As much as she adored him on the beach and around the house in casuals, there was nothing like seeing Fitzgerald Grant in a suit and tie. Although he was having something of a tie crisis at the moment.

Olivia smiled widely. "Hun, you should know better. Can't go wrong with a solid red."

He sighed. "I know, but I thought you liked blue. You said it brought out my eyes." There was a flirtatious glint in his eyes.

Olivia got up from the kitchen table. It was refreshing. It was strange how she never got used to it. They were the real thing now. Here she was, dressed in his old Harvard tee shirt, helping him pick out a tie…

She giggled at the look of earnest confusion spreading across his chiseled feature, his brow furrowed in deliberation.

"Yes, but you always look better on television in red. What time do you have to be at the airport?" She asked, turning down the volume of the television.

"In about an hour or two."

"Well, there should not be any traffic, so you should be fine. I hate this."

Olivia embraced him wrapping her arms around him. She loved being in his arms. He smelled so delicious. His cologne always sent her heart aflutter. She loved how tan and freckled he had gotten from being out in the sun making his glittering grey eyes pop. She loved how small she was in his arms…

"Hun, it is just one day. I'll be right back in your arms in the morning. We can go for a nice boat ride; I'll make you dinner…" Olivia's heart warmed at his suggestion. But a slight lump formed in the back of her throat.

She wished she could go with him. She wished she could prep him for his interview with Piers Morgan, and play fixer. But she could not. Too many eyes and way too much press would be on him while he was in New York.

She sighed deeply, pulling back and taking the red tie into her hands, stroking the soft silk.

"Babe, its fine. You're right. It's just a day."

He smiled that special smile. The real one that extended to his eyes, forming that familiar electric sync that happened with her heart and soul with his. They spoke a language of their own.

It was times like this that she would give it all up. Her career, the deal with Mellie, all of it just to stand from the mountaintops to declare her love for Fitz on the mountain top.

She relished the moment. The softness of his shirt as her fingertips grazed the crisp fine fabric, the sensual feel of the silk of his tie as she wrapped, and knotted into a half Windsor. Why was it so sexy for her to put on his tie? It was just as sexy as taking it off.

"Seriously Liv, it's kind of embarrassing how much better you are at this." Fitz said gently, as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"As it should be." She said, trying to distract herself from his impending departure by unnecessarily fussing with his hair, straightening out his lapel.

He took her hands as she began messing with his flag pin. He looked deeply in her eyes.

"Hey. I'm not going anywhere. It's one day."

"I know, but you know me, I don't see you for five minutes, I worry. No smoking-"

"What? Come on!"

"Fitz, I mean it. None. We both promised we'd quit. You promised the kids. What will they think when they are in class one day and they get a phone call that their father drops dead from a freaking heart attack?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, now you are being over the top." Olivia smirked.

"Be good, don't give the interviewer the hard time-"

"Liv?"

"What?"

"You are doing it again. I'm not a client. Quit trying to fix me." He placed a loving kiss on her forehead. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, what if I told you were my favorite client?" She said playfully.

His eyes fluttered. He bit his lip. She knew what he was thinking. She would love to give him a proper send off. But he did not have time. He had to get going.

She embraced him once more, snuggly as if forming a flesh memory. She was drunk with his presence, not wanting to let go.

"Mm. I'm going to miss you. I'll call you when I arrive."

"Sure. I'll miss you too. And just remember-"

"I know, I know, no smoking, be nice to the Piers Morgan."

"Mr. President, I'm glad you agree."

* * *

Olivia had spent the rest of the day doing what she did best: working. Emails, phone calls to the team at _Olivia Pope & Associates _to keep on top of the client roster for the month. Datasheets, reports and background searches served as her bedtime reading material.

_Got to email Abby and Harrison about getting a more detailed report, Call Cyrus and say yes to dinner at his house with James now that he was in town for a week…_

A nice cup of coffee and cable news watching had complimented her work quite nicely. She checked the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the den. It was 10pm. Another hour closer to her having to go to bed without Fitz.

She sighed, as she clicked through her emails on her MacBook. Nothing new had emerged in-

A new email, highlighted by the mini-envelop icon had popped up. It was from Mellie…

_**Hello,**_

_**Just wanted to update you. Have contacts at the New Yorker, nailed an interview, a story publishing tomorrow about me. Here's a quick look at it. Once again, thanks for everything. By the way, I was wondering if you could talk to you about a possible endorsement from Fitzgerald. Doing well in the polls but I would hope that would put me over the top.**_

_**As always**_

_**- Mellie.**_

Olivia rolled her eyes. This woman had to be kidding. What had Olivia been thinking when she made that deal?

Sure, the alternative could have been much worse, but this was getting a little absurd. She had done everything she was supposed to. Gotten Cyrus to manage Mellie's campaign (much to his chagrin), called up contacts around D.C to get her the best strategists and consultants to set up shop in Boston, and agreed to keep a lid on the Fitz and her going public until after she won her election. Now she was trying to negotiate an endorsement? She could not do that!

Olivia felt a swirl of emotions. Disgust, annoyance and fear. While Fitz and Mellie had remained cordial, they were hardly chummy. Fitz was hardly thrilled about Mellie's run, worrying about the impact the race and public scrutiny would have on Karen and Jerry. Especially since she would pull them out of school for campaign events.

_We finally have been able to get them out of the glare of the spotlight, and there she is, throwing them back into a campaign! This is exactly what I didn't want! _

It had been a bit naïve for Fitz to think that Mellie would not actually go through with a run. She was popular, widely admired.

Of course she was going to run, given their marriage; she had always planned for that. This was Mellie after all. What she did not want Fitz to know was that she had a hand in Mellie's election prospects and asking for trying to get an endorsement out of him would be a surefire way to complete destroy the heavenly state of their relationship.

Olivia tried to put the clusterfuck of emotions behind her, by opening the link to the attached article.

_The Anti-Hilary _

_By: Thomas Collins_

_Ms. Millicent "Mellie" Valmont of Massachusetts sits elegantly in her Beacon Hill townhouse kitchen, serving tea. With her milk white skin, dark auburn hair, and soft, Norman Rockwell-sensibility, she is the kind of woman people refuse to believe exist in the 21__st__ century. A woman of means, generations of wealth and status, she makes Jacqueline Kennedy and Brooke Astor seem like peasants. _

_However, in all the ways that matter, the woman who would become Mellie Grant has lived the life of a 21__st__ century woman. Smart, ambitious, with a long career spanning triumphant class action lawsuits, a stint in the Nixon White House post-Harvard Law (where she graduated summa cum laude) as a staffer. She was on the fast track to a political career. _

_ "I always thought I would be Attorney General by 30." She said, with a tight wistful smile. "But at least I got to be First Lady."_

_Being First Lady, a beloved one at that was a turning point in her life. No longer was she the lawyer, a woman in her own right, she would take a back seat to her husband's political ambitions. _

_ "I guess it was natural, in a way. Fitzgerald and I always had a mutual interest in public service. We were so young when we met. I gave up some of my own personal ambitions. "_

_Her marriage to President Fitzgerald Grant III was never the picture perfect portrait. For most of the American public, they seemed to have it all, looks, pedigree and political ambition. Some wondered in the early stages of her ex-husband's political career if the wrong Grant was running for office._

_ "No, I think things happen for a reason." When pressed on whether she regretted her marriage, and what went wrong, the Senate candidate remains adamant that she and her husband simply just grew apart._

_Some have wondered if the marriage was a stepping stone for Valmont's political ambitions, particularly after years of innuendo of her husband engaging in sexual proclivities outside the marriage. The Amanda Tanner story is one she clearly did not wish to discuss. However, despite it all, there is a level of civility she says that always remains._

_ "Fitzgerald and I are on good terms, worried about the safety of our children, this world. He is doing such good work in the world with his charity; he's a great father, so it's important to focus on the good. We had good times. Some bad, but in the end, we are both happy now." _

_The bad times have captured the imaginations off the public. Of course, being a First Couple that first divorced, will. But despite it all, Mellie Grant proves that she is forging her own path, learning from mistakes and escaping the ghost of Hillary Clintons past. _

Olivia sighed after finishing the article. It was not bad. Good, impressive and very Mellie-like. But before she could even blink, her phone rang. He answered it, knowing instinctively who it is.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"I really wish you would not call me. I prefer email. Fitz could have been home, you know the deal."

"Oh, nonsense Olivia. I'm busy, on the go, like you. I have a few things I need to clear up, besides, I know he's in New York. Its all over the press."

"Nice interview on taxes, how is campaign life treating you?"

"Good, but if I have to eat another wretched hot dog at the state fair, I will vomit. What do you think I should do about Dawson's claim that I should release financial records?"

"Last time, I checked, I was no longer on retainer."

"Well, if I wired a check of 500,000 would I be?"

"Our deal was very clear. I help you set up shop. I never said I would be a strategist for your campaign."

"Olivia, I would be very happy to do an interview tomorrow besmirching your character as a tawdry adulteress who ruined by marriage, I suggest you do take the money I will wire tomorrow. Or else."

"Fine. "

"Fitz tells me he's looking at homes in D.C. A bit sooner than I like. Don't you think you should wait until-"

"Now, you know the deal does not work that we. I agreed we won't go public. Never said anything about living arrangements. Now, as far as the financial records, use the old Republican line of Dawson engaging in class warfare, talk about your charitable service. I will email Cyrus regarding talking points. Deal?"

"Deal. Now how about that endorsement?"

"Well, as far as-"

"Oh, come on, do what you do best. Fuck him and get it out of him."

"How _dare_ you-"

"Oh please, don't act surprised. We are talking about a man who used to say your name while we would have sex, the very few times we did. A man who could not function without screwing you. He's obsessed. You can get him to do anything as long as it involves sex. I want that endorsement. And if I don't get it, consider your career and reputation ruined.

_Click…_

The phone went dead.


	14. The Tells of Fitz's Women

Olivia had tells. When she was upset, she was fire. A ball of kinetic energy that eventually built and eventually exploded, screwing up her button nose, her expressive eyes aflame with passion.

When she was sorrowful, her eyes were downcast; she bit her full lips, trying to hold back the tears.

These tells were always obvious. You did not have to know Olivia Pope religiously to sense those particular moods.

The tells that were more subtle, the once Fitz, and only Fitz knew, well it was like a six sense. He knew when she wanted him intimately. She would blink less; there was a slinky, almost catlike quality to her movements, in the way she walked. Her lips pouted, her voice got a little more raspy than usual…

These tells were impossible to ignore. He loved her, lusted for her and needed her…

And his need was normally met, round for round. Olivia loved sex…

She was passionate, rowdy and loud. This was entirely different from her public persona, where she was the hardened fixer. In a world where she had to be powerful, take down the influential, she was tough, always playing hardball.

In the bedroom, however, it was Fitz's court. She deferred all power to him, mind, body and soul. Never clinical in her actions, always engaged in the moment. So he knew there was something wrong that night when they made love. She was distracted.

Normally when they were done, she would snuggle into him, they would talk, laugh. However, she lay next to him, staring at the ceiling. Silent.

"Livy, are you okay?"

He turned on his side, observing her. He could practically see her mind turning…

And then, the biggest tell of them all, the twitch of her lips, the ever so slight tell revealed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said softly. As if to assuage any worries, she shifted over toward him, and snuggled into him. He knew Olivia, too well to buy anything she was selling, for she had shown her hand.

_She's lying…_

He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feeling of her glorious body. The soft skin, the tiny waist were the same. They always would be. But the feeling of her was different. There was no sigh, no moan of content. He looked down at her to see her biting her lip.

"Really, you seemed a little tense." He said teasingly, placing a kiss on her soft hair.

"No, I'm just a bit preoccupied with work. Tough case. Matter of fact, I think I'm going to cut our little vacay short. The office needs me."

There it was again. The tells. Olivia always had a tough case. She relished them. Loved her work, practically lived for work. Olivia Pope never complained.

Fitz smiled. Not because he had any reason to smile, but at the absurdity of his life. How regardless of leaving the shackles of the White House behind. Despite months of building his life, his image over, nothing ever changed.

There was a sick joke always waiting around the corner. Whether it was Olivia's reluctance to meet with the real estate agent "Just yet" or the fact that he was in bed, next to the woman he loved more than himself knowing that she was lying to him. And the sickest part of it all, he knew what she was lying about.

* * *

Being back in California was a ball of stress.

Olivia was not the only one with too much work. He still was in the editing process of his memoirs, had a meeting with the UN Ambassador about planning a trip to Darfur, in regarding humanitarian aid. He also had to meet with his research team on their findings on abuses of women in the third world. Not to mention, after the call he got this morning from Karen, he was worried about his children's well-being. He would have to plan a trip to visit them.

Not to mention, he had a very important meeting…

It was only 1pm in the afternoon, and yet he was already exhausted. He had a full itinerary and he did not bounce back like he used to, after all he did not get much sleep. He was not getting any younger.

He stood up, stretching and walking toward the window. It was a welcomed change, his downtown Los Angeles office from the White House days. His office was modern, sunny with ceiling to floor windows and sleek furniture. It was breezy, bright with a fantastic view of the Los Angeles sky line.

There was something very peaceful about standing by the window, people watching. The tiny dots of pedestrians, just living their life, couples walking down the street, shopping, holding hands, never having to worry about press interviews, deadlines from publishers, lying girlfriends and vindictive ex-wives.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, trying to unwind.

_Call Olivia._

No. He would not. He needed to figure this whole thing out. Their routine morning call would have to do for now. Most importantly figure out what _this_ was. He could not believe after all this time; he was in this place again. Doubting her, wondering when she was really going to commit to their relationship. How long was she going to be constrained by the past, or worse, Mellie?

The deal was so ridiculous. Of course Mellie would never expose their relationship. How would it look for her? A mother of two, the First Lady, staying married to a man who carried on an affair with a former staffer for nearly a decade. How would it look for the next Senator of Massachusetts to be mud-slinging at her very popular and well liked former ex-President of a husband? Embarrassing their children, their family and friends?

Was Olivia so bonded to the notion that she would always be a secret that she would make a deal with the devil to keep herself a secret?

It did not take long to figure it out. He had suspicious when Cyrus had joined her campaign. After everything that went between Mellie and Cyrus, that was too fishy. Liv's fingerprints were all over that. A very worried and frustrated Cyrus had confided in him weeks ago over dinner.

"_Fitz, I don't know what those two have cooked up, but I'm tired. I have had enough." Cyrus said, taking a swig of his gin martini._

_Fitz's brow furrowed. He was upset, felt betrayed. Hell, he was a bit frustrated that Cyrus had kept mum for so long. However, he could not chalk up the energy to be upset, the way he would have been years ago. He was a masochist. He loved Olivia. And in loving she with came lies, fears and insecurities. Insecurities about her reputation, how the public would react to their relationship. _

_In a way, being married to Mellie was so much easier. She was blatant, naked about her feelings, never hiding behind a moral compass. So blatant that she had carried on an affair with an esteemed member of his party for years. An affair that resulted in a stillborn…America's baby, my ass. _

_ "So what are you going to do? Quit? Doesn't that look bad for the campaign?" Fitz asked dully, cutting into his Foie Gras._

_Cyrus shrugged. His shoulders were slumped; the bags under his electric blue eyes were bruised from stress. Fitz felt horrible. _

_ "I don't know, Mr. President, you tell me?"_

Fitz shook himself out of his distraction. He checked his watch. There she was again. Even the sleek, expensive piece of jewelry, ostentatious in its price and rareness, there Olivia was again, haunting him. After all he gave her this watch on his birthday years ago.

Five minutes.

_Knowing her, she would arrive early. _

His office phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mr. President, she's arrived."

"Send her in."

Fitz took a deep breath. The old him would have taken a shot, smoked a cigarette. Not now.

The door clicked open. He smirked.

"Hello Fitzgerald. This was unexpected. I have campaigning to be doing." Mellie said coolly.

Fitz took her in. The crisp business suit, the stiff auburn up do. That was the thing about Mellie. Always perfect in her appearance, and yet, as pretty as she was, he could never find himself drawn to her the way other men were. He knew too much.

"Have a seat." He said motioning to the empty chair across his desk.

She sat, briskly, staring up at him, blinking fast.

"So, we need to talk."

"We could not do this over the phone?"

"No. We could not. Besides, Karen called me, said she broke up with Brandon, she's hurt, but she does not want to tell you because apparently, because she's worried about stressing you out? Says you yelled at her the other day because of the campaign? What the hell Mel?" He sighed, taking a seat behind his desk, staring at her.

Mellie's face went from blank to cold fury. Her icy blue eyes narrowed.

"Fitz, cut the bullshit. You didn't drag me nearly 2,000 miles to yell about me about Karen's boyfriend. She's a big girl. She's just stressed, college admissions are right around the corner and she's freaking out about Harvard."

Fitz studied her. She looked annoyed, indignant. He could not even bring himself to get frustrated, upset or troubled by Mellie and her antics anymore. No more. Enough.

He chuckled. "Typical. But I guess I can't bullshit a bullshiter. Nice to know you are so dismissive of our daughter's feelings. Anyway, the reason I called you here is because of Olivia."

Mellie rolled her eyes, poking out her lips. "Of course, why else."

He would let that go. He wanted this nipped in the bud and over. "I'm going to cut to the chase because I have to make a call in an hour to my editors regarding the chapter on us in my memoir. Long story short, this deal, is done."

She shifted in her chair. "What deal?"

"The deal, you know the deal you made with Olivia about our relationship? Oh, don't look surprised. I know. Here's how this is going to work. You call Olivia, you call this deal off."

Mellie sighed. "I should have known. The perfect couple with their perfect pillow talk. Of course she spilled the beans. But that's what she does best. Getting you to clean up her messes. How long are you going to keep doing this?"

Fitz rolled his eyes. It was telling that Mellie thought Olivia had told him. Not only did she not know him at all, she did not know Olivia either. However, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing how he found out. Besides, Cyrus could not take any more stress.

"Moving on to more important matters, why the deal?"

"I wanted your endorsement." She answered. But it was pre-canned, cool. A lie.

"You know Mel; I have dirt on you too. And you know that. Remember? The congressmen? The baby? Remember? Or did your little Senate run overtake your common sense? Don't forget Mel, you weren't the only politician in our marriage."

There it was again, the blinking.

He was playing a high stakes game of chess. He knew he had caught her in a lie. It was absurd. Mellie was not this sloppy. Blackmail only worked if she knew she could worm her way into a victory, if she could not lose. They were divorced, and she had no reason to engage in such games anymore. She had what she wanted, the career, and the adoring public. Why blackmail Olivia?

"I don't know what you-"

"You and I both know what this is about. This is not about the public, or wanting my endorsement. We both know I would have given it to you. Not because I support your candidacy, personally I liked Dawson, party affiliation be damned, but you are the mother of my kids. If I'm going to go public with Liv, I would need to be in your good books. How would it look to not endorse my ex-wife? So I'm going to ask you again, why did you do it?"

He said this in such a deadpanned manner it surprised even him. But then again, he had been preparing for this meeting with for weeks.

Jackpot. She swallowed hard. Her eyes were welling up. She looked away.

"That's what I thought." He said quietly.

Mellie abruptly got up, and began heading out the door. However, Fitz would not let her off the hook that easily.

"You know where I stood in our marriage. You know my feelings for Liv, but despite it all, I cared about you. I hope you know that?"

And for the first time, in years, for the first time since that winter day when Jerry was born, with his eyes, Fitz saw something in Mellie's eyes when she turned around that had been missing for years.

"If the question is did I cared, yes Fitz. And the crazy thing, about it all, us, Amanda Tanner, Olivia, the lies, the affairs, I never stopped. I always took comfort in knowing you and Olivia would be in the dark. Too ashamed of your actions to actually move to the next level. But I hear through the grapevine, from other people like _Cyrus_, Cyrus-"

"I don't owe you-"

"TO hell with what you owe me, Fitz! Fine! You go ride off in the sunset-"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news Mel, but this is what you wanted. The career and me out of your life? Isn't that what you told me? Second act? You suddenly wake up one day and realize you still have feelings, so that makes blackmail okay? It's way too late for that now. What was humiliating me and Liv going to do? Were you really naïve enough to think I would be running back? Afraid of what _people _would say?I mean, did you think of what this could have done to Karen and Jerry? Not this time. You don't get to determine who I love, or when I do it. Not anymore."

He had touched a nerve, the widening of her eyes; he had knocked the wind out of her.

And with that, she stormed out of the room. He could hear her sobbing from outside the door as she left.


	15. Pain of My Love

"What are we doing here?" Olivia asked frightened as Fitz and Olivia walked into the palatial home. He gently closed the door behind him.

It was beautiful. Built in the 1800s, it was spacious, yet warm, with numerous bedrooms, a lovely garden. It was private, but not too secluded. His security detail would be able to shut down the street if need be. Most importantly, it was located in Alexandria, only a few minutes outside of Washington D.C.

He had lied, told Olivia he was taking her out to lunch. That he was in town because he missed her, and while that was true, he had a few things he needed to get out the way. He had business to take care of.

Yet showing her this home was part of that business. There were a few things he needed to know…

"Isn't it beautiful?" He said softly. He watched her closely as she took in the foyer, examining the details. He knew she loved French doors; the expansive staircase was breath taking. He had already had his time to marvel at the house. So now, he could enjoy her reaction. He could see she was emotionally pulled in as she took in a sharp breath of awe. How she turned, head up admiring the crown moldings, her eyes aglow, like a child on Christmas morning.

"Oh my, Fitz…this is so amazing. But what does this have to do with lunch?" She asked puzzled.

He walked toward her, slowly. The emotional part of him wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her soundly. Almost bonding their love to what would be their future home. However, he had far too much to discuss with her to get lost in the moment.

"The reason I brought you here, is to gage whether I had made the right choice."

She cocked her head to the side, confused. Her brows were furrowed. Though, like clockwork, the sudden realization of what this house meant had hit her.

"You didn't!" She said loudly, her voice echoing around the empty house.

He smiled wearily. That was exactly what he had always dreamed her reaction would be.

"I did." He said surely, walking over to the stairs and taking a seat.

"Hun, this is wonderful. A lovely surprise, but I thought we had talked about this?" She said.

He could see the concern, the fear reflected in those beautiful eyes of hers. It was so familiar. At every milestone of their relationship, the day he met her, the day she said his name on the bus, the first time, she had the fear glowing in her eyes, sparkling around her irises. Over the years it would glow, over taking her body in hysterical sobs, righteous indignation about their indiscretions. Like an old friend, it had made a return.

"Yes we talked about it and?"

"What do you mean and? You heard me. I thought we were waiting."

Fitz snorted. Waiting for how long exactly?

"How long Livy?" He stood up, taking her hands. She looked confused, shocked.

"What? Did you think this through? I mean, what if I did not like the house? What if I thought it was hideous?"

She was goading him into a fight. Deep down, for the past few weeks, Fitz had the feeling she knew. She was aware of his knowledge of the deal. Olivia had been acting like she had something to hide. It was only a matter of time. He knew just where to get her to come clean.

"One, I am kind of experienced at house hunting-"

"No kidding-"

"Look, I said I wasn't ready. I don't want you to be Superman, Fitz. I don't need you to come save the day."

Fitz nodded. He knew she had a point. "Livy, I'm sorry-"

"No! You are not. Do you know what this is like for me? I'm going to be 40 years in a few months Fitz. 40 years old! What do I have to show for it? Do you know what it is like? I'm scared. I love you and its great we are together, but who is to say we make it? Is worth it? Is it worth starting all over for you? You've already been down this road. It did not go swimmingly. I have to deal with my mother, calling me every other day wondering when I'm going to settle down, if we are dating for real or not dating. I have to keep us a secret once-

"Who said you have to keep us a secret?"

Olivia breathed in deeply. She closed her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. Was she finally going to tell the truth?

"Liv, I'm asking you a question. Why do you feel so much pressure-"

"Fine! I made a deal. A deal to keep us a secret with Mellie months ago when Cyrus told her about us. We all made that deal. We made that deal a long time ago when I walked into your room that night! This was never going to end well!"

She was screaming. The walls bouncing with the sound of her voice. The veins in her refined neck were popped and prominent as her face screwed up with rage. Fitz remained calm; knowing the only way they would make it to the other side was for him to keep his sanity.

"Was that so difficult to admit?" He asked softly.

"What difference does it make? Huh? You've known. I know you've known. I could feel it that night we were out having dinner. I know you by now! And I know when you know when I am lying to you." She spat viciously.

She walked to the other end of the foyer, her high heels clacking loudly. He watched her sob to herself. It hurt. Like a knife to the heart to watch her pain. Was she really that concerned about them failing? Was that what the lies and deals had been about? Protecting herself from the blowback of what could happen?

She shook with tears, wracked with sorrow as her sobs littered the quiet of the room. He let her calm down. He ordinarily would walk over and try to calm her down. However, she needed this moment. She needed the reality of them being together to face her.

* * *

"So when do you move in?" Cyrus asked Fitz as he poured gin into the shot glass.

Fitz sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his curls. He looked around, admiring Cyrus's home. He had many wonderful memories in this house, with the old gang. He, Mellie, Olivia, and James…back during the early days of the White House years, before Olivia left, before everything changed for the worse.

It was helpful being in this house after what had occurred that afternoon. He needed a reminder of the good times. That afternoon had been stressful, angst ridden and irritating. He and Olivia had duked it out. They yelled, they screamed, hurtful words being tossed about with an insidious casualty. His trip to Washington had not gone as planned on the personal level.

"I don't know if we are going to move in at this rate." Fitz slumped down onto the couch, as Cyrus stared intently at him. It was nice to have him to talk to. His own father, the strong and silent type had never been the kind to listen to his problems.

_Real men don't do that sort of thing, Fizzy. _His father would say. _That's what we have alcohol for_ was also another favorite saying.

Cyrus shook his head. "I've been there. It's tough. I remember the days when James couldn't get me to sleep over his place. Now look at us, completely domesticated."

Fitz shook his head tiredly, taking the shot glass from Cyrus and savoring the soothing feeling of fine gin cruising down his throat. He leaned back into the overstuffed arm chair and closed his eyes.

"I'm too old for this. Seriously, Cy. I love her, but how long is she going to keep fighting us? It doesn't make any sense!"

The gin was swirling with his dormant frustration. He needed to vent, to rage like he had to Olivia. The problem was he no longer had the energy. He was no longer in the mood to fight.

"Fitz, Fitz! Open your eyes." Cyrus snapped. Fitz sat up, alert. Cyrus's round face had taken on the unmistakable look of a man who was struggling. He knew when Cyrus was bursting at the seams.

"Cy?"

Cyrus took a deep sigh, closed his large eyes for a brief second.

"Look, I'm going to tell you things, I am going to tell you things about Liv, things that frankly, she will kill me for saying. But you need to know. You need to know because I care not only about her like a daughter, but you like a son. And I want to see you too happy. The truth of the matter is Olivia is petrified. She is scared, she is so used to being hurt she does not know how to be happy. When you left her, she was broken, broken in a way that I doubt all the therapy in the world can fix. I think a part of her fears that one day; she's going to wake up in that beautiful house with no one but herself. Not just that but she fears she is…well malfunctioned."

Fitz was not shocked. These were things he had heard before. He and Liv had their fair share of conversations so he was very aware of her fears. On the contrary, there was a level of despair that over took Cyrus's voice when he said the word "malfunctioned."

"What do you mean she's malfunctioned?" He asked slowly.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" Fitz asked confused.

It was time to face the music. To once and for all finish what they had started. After hours of drinking and conversation at Cyrus's house, he had finally made his way home.

By a cozy fire, locked in Olivia's apartment, they had once again fought to a draw. The screaming, yelling and frustrations ensued, but the moment of contention had come to pass. Fitz could no longer pretend not to know all that Cyrus had told him. He could no longer pretend to be ignorant to his past, Olivia's past, and most importantly _their_ past together.

He was hoarse, slightly tipsy and tired. Olivia was overworked, tired and exhausted. All of this did not matter.

He had never known…

"I…um….see how happy Jerry and Karen make you and I can't give that to you. I've dreamed, so many times of giving you a part of me, a little girl or boy with your eyes and your smile." She choked, burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, her piercing sobs, breaking his heart.

A simple medical misfortune. Something so out of her control. How was it that she managed to bare this burden for so long? How did she manage to make something so unfortunate and petty her fault?

"Liv, Liv, look at me…"

"I…can't…I can't give you chil-"

"Hey, Hey, look at me…Liv, Hun, look at me. Okay? See, it is okay. It's fine. It's not your fault. It happens. You are not a failure. So what? So what we can adopt or-"

He rocked her back and forth. Her tears shook violently to her core. He could feel her despair in the desperation. It cut through his bones and straight to his soul. They were bonded in her pain. It all became so raw, so exquisitely painful and clear.

The secrets and lies had all been a cover. A cover for a woman, his woman so desperate to make him happy. She had painfully relayed the story to him, of going to the doctor for a simple medical check-up, a routine. The kind of thing very reasonable Olivia Pope would do. Only to find out the simple medical procedure would result in a barren womb, never capable of producing a physical manifestation of their love.

He wrapped his arms around her rubbing her back, allowing her to cry not because he was disappointed in what could have been, but the sorrow of her having to go through this alone.

"I…it…"

"It's fine Liv. I'm here. We will get through this."

* * *

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly, rubbing her back. She was curled onto the couch, watching the stupid medical show that he hated. She looked so scared, almost childlike under the blanket. He marveled at how different this woman was from the one who had stood in a packed room and told him he looked like he did not screw his wife.

He was partially to blame. For leaving her. Olivia was not the kind of woman a man pushed. She was fragile, hurting for love. He should have never written that note years ago, his jealousy, his need to have their love affirmed on his time pushing her away. She had gone through hardships alone. All because of him.

She looked at him, eyes red, her voice cracking and gave him a weak smile. "I'm okay. Really Fitz, I'm infertile. I'm not dying." She said sardonically.

"I know, I'm just-"

"I know." She whispered softly. "Sit with me." She sat up slowly and patted the couch beside her. He smiled, taking a seat.

He looked at her, entranced by her softness. The fullness of her lips, the warmth of her eyes. There was a pang of regret that they could not have a tiny little replica of her running around.

"What?" She asked briskly, looking away at the melodramatic soap opera and into his eyes. He shrugged helplessly.

"Nothing. Just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Is that why the house freaked you out? You were afraid that we-"

"-could not fill the house with a bunch of screaming children? Sure." She said casually. "It's not easy, being in a big house like that, empty rooms, just us."

"Are we not enough?" He asked softly. He felt his throat overcome with fear at what she might say. The pain across her face was too much to bear. She seemed so offended by the suggestion.

"You are enough. You are more than enough. The question is am I enough? With all the lies, all my flaws, all my bullshit, Fitz, can you take me as I am? "

Fitz smiled at her. He scooted closer to her, taking her face into his hands. Her skin was heavenly to feel under his rough hands. A grace and gentleness to the contours of her face that never ceased to take his breath away.

"You really don't get it? I love you. Everything about you. I love that you, I don't know, like crappy television. I love that you keep your vibrator in your cabinet and you can drink me under the table. I love how you fidget when you are impatient, that you are addicted to your work. I love all of you, all the time. The stupid little annoying things that get under my skin. Hell, I love the fact that you lie to me. I'm nuts about you. And I always will be. And if you were any different, it would not make sense because I would not have you any other way."

He took a big sigh when he was finished. She looked relieved, elated. Something clicked behind those eyes when he was speaking.

Deep in his gut, he knew that they had overcome a lot. They would never be perfect. But they would always be in love.


	16. Normal isn't Overrated Normal is good

**Months Later…**

Olivia loved her new kitchen. She loved the kitchen more than she should. For the first time in her life she used a kitchen this often. Her mother had always been a phenomenal cook, filling her childhood with memories of savory roasts, delicious pies and wonderful dinner parties, so she never needed to cook. As a college student and a law student, she never had any time to cook, making her entirely reliant on take out and fast food. Unfortunately this was a habit that had carried on into her late twenties and early thirties, years dominated by her career. Long hours at _Pope & Associates _meant greasy take-out.

So to be standing in her new kitchen, a full month into living in her new home cooking was refreshing. As the delicious smells of marinara sauce filled the wood paneled room, her heart grew heavy with elation.

"What are you smiling about gorgeous?" Fitz voice flirtatiously came from behind her, walking in from the adjacent den. He looked so handsome in his jeans and worn NAVY shirt. His grey eyes were encased behind his favorite black rimmed reading glasses, while holding a folded copy of _The LA Times_.

Olivia shrugged as she tended to the boiling pasta over the stainless steel stove. "Just in a good mood, I guess?"

"Any reason in particular?" He asked softly, stroking her cheek lovingly.

Olivia giggled.

The past few months had been nothing but soothe sailing. An easy transition into domestic bliss filled with decorating their new home, dinner parties on the weekends with old friends and family. Olivia's heart still warmed every time she passed the mantel piece and saw her father's old rifle hanging above it in the sitting room. She could still see her two men, standing there and exchanging war stories during the night of their housewarming party.

"No, I'm just in a good mood." Olivia said brightly, winking at him. He wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in the delicious warmth of his body against her. Her thoughts suddenly became hazy as he pressed soft kisses on her neck while his hands traveled up her cardigan.

As her skin tingled at his touch, as her senses were engulfed with the intoxicating fragrance of _Black Orchard_, she reflected on her life.

There was an ease to it now to it that never existed before. She woke up next to a man, every day that she loved. They lived a quiet life, a much simpler life now.

They had made a conscious decision to rid their world of unnecessary staffers. With the exception of Miranda, Fitz's long time and very loyal housekeeper who worked only a few times a week, and a few long time staffers who maintained the varying properties around the country, the Santa Barbara ranch, the winter home in Vermont, the house in the Cape, the rest were not necessary. They were enough. Just the two of them.

Olivia liked waking up in the morning to Fitz making her coffee; she enjoyed working from home on the weekends now, attending to her own garden during the warm seasons. Sure, the Secret Service agents still surrounded the house, something she had to get used to when getting the mail, though that came with the territory.

"Mm. I made your favorite." Olivia whispered softly as Fitz's fingers worked their magic.

"Yeah? I can see that. Smells amazing." She could feel his smile against her neck.

"Who would have thought?" Olivia asked, turning around to face him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. For a minute, a glorious, minute, they looked each other in the eye just enjoying each other's company.

"I did." He said, his eyes shining with admiration.

"I bet. And may I just add, Mr. President, you look absolutely adorable."

"I thought you hated me in glasses?"

"No, I hate those other ones. I like these better…they are sexy."

"Sexy? Well, nice to know I still got it." He flirted shamelessly. "Oh by the way, there is a piece in the _Times_ now that might interest you.

Olivia's browed furrowed curiously. She picked up the discarded newspaper off the counter. There was a mischievous playfulness dancing in his eyes as she opened the paper.

"It's on B5." He said, giving her a gentle pat on the rear as he walked around the counter and took a seat. She stared at him blankly."

"Am I missing something?" Olivia smirked as she rapidly flipped through the creased pages. He shrugged, playfully. She giggled at how boyish he looked feigning ignorance on the nature of the article.

"Fitz, baby, have I mentioned how much I hate the way you read papers, they get all wrinkled when you-"

There they were. A picture of them, at a fundraiser for Republican Congressional candidates. She could not deny it was a great picture…

**The President has a Girlfriend.**

_If President Grant is any indication, times have changed in a major way. The era of "family values" dominating the political discourse has ended. The most famous man in the world has entered the dating game. And the controversy of his new girlfriend maybe there is none._

_Meet Olivia Pope. She's the most powerful woman in Washington D.C. Born to the iconic Stanley Lee Pope, the former Senator of Virginia and Doris Pope, the granddaughter of civil rights icon Boris Good, she is definitely no stranger to politics._

"_She's definitely Washington Royalty." a former Grant White House staffer who wished to be anonymous stated. _

_Her career is a long one. A graduate of Georgetown and Harvard with high honors, she has a resume that leave most salivating. Her successful consulting firm, Pope & Associates boasts a clientele list that rivals that of a Royal wedding guest list._

"_She's kind of the one person who makes Washington go round." Joyce Armstrong, former Press Secretary gushed. _

_With an impeccable reputation, flawless pedigree, the stunning 40 year old is at the top of the food chain in the nation's capital. So it is not particularly surprising that she snagged the world's most eligible bachelor. The former President and consultant have traveled in mutual circles for years. She worked as Communications Director for the White House during his tenure, was a campaign adviser during his first run for the White House and a good family friend._

"_They've known each other for a long time, they trust each other." A prominent Republican fundraiser disclosed._

_It is unclear when the two started seeing each other but Washington insiders have spotted the two for months around the D.C area, at top restaurants, the opera and a few closed press political fundraisers. Rumor has it the two now share a home in the exclusive Alexandria neighborhood of Virginia, a political enclave that boast such prominent residents of Henry Kissinger and Warren Beatty. According to reports, the couple purchased a historic five bedroom Georgian home, said to be valued at 10 million dollars._

"_It's definitely a bit bizarre, to say the least. We aren't used to this. Ex-President's don't date, they don't move in with girlfriends, but President Grant, with his charitable work, and his high approval ratings, I think he has been spared the potential fallout of this relationship, frankly because he was a good President. People like him. For one thing, it is very low profile, very tasteful. And he's not dating a teenager. He's dating Olivia Pope." Alan Richards, the prominent Democratic strategist said._

_An insider close to the couple says they are in fact serious. Pope is said to have a great relationship with the Grant children. As for the former First Lady, and current Senator Mellie Valmont-Grant, when asked about rumors of her husband's new romantic interest, the President's ex-wife's office declined to comment._

_The Times contacted the former Chief of Staff and good friend to the couple Cyrus Beene for a comment, he also declined to respond._

_It remains to be seen the impact the relationship will have on the former President's reputation. However, the fallout may be non-existent. No controversy here. Two independently wealthy and powerful people engaging in a mature and discreet relationship is hardly the stuff of tawdry tabloid reports. Even if you are the most popular modern president in years. _

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. She could not help but roll her eyes, smiling. Typical. A lot of these types of stories had begun popping up in newspapers and magazines lately...

"What are you going to do?" Fitz sighed, shrugging. Olivia smiled, folding the paper down. She walked around the counter, and placed a loving kiss on his forehead. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying the silky sensation of his curls.

"Screw them." Olivia said softly.

"You're not bothered by all this speculation that's popping up? I know how you are. About us…being public."

"As long as the paparazzi aren't trying to get shots of me taking a shower, I'm fine." She joked as she walked around the counter once again and began tending to their dinner.

"That's a relief." Fitz said, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I was expecting an artery to come bursting out of your chest."

"Well it comes with the territory. I'm surprised. I thought they would have covered your trip to Darfur a lot more."

"Yeah, well, nature of the press. Apparently you are more interesting." He joked teasingly.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Let's eat. I don't want dinner to get cold."

* * *

Fitz's moan of contentment was all Olivia needed. They were cuddled up by a warm fire, their new nightly routine. Reading, each other and a cozy fire wrapped up in a knitted blanket. The first winter's snow was beginning to fall outside was the best compliment to a peaceful and cozy night.

"What about a dog?" He asked, his hand gently rubbing up and down her thigh. Olivia sighed.

"Yeah…that would be great. But none of us have the time, I work, you travel. Would I take it into the office with me when you're not home?" She turned in the comfortable couch to face him, her chin on his chest.

"Well, Miranda could watch after it?" He offered adorably. Olivia smiled. There was something rather endearing about it his pleading for a dog. It was the nature of their relationship, constant negotiation.

"Fitz, the woman has enough responsibilities; I doubt she wants to take care of a dog."

"Oh, come on, how great would it be. You me, the kids in Vermont, a fire."

She could not deny. The thought did warm her heart. "Yeah, it would be nice. A nice big Golden retriever, all-American dog. I had one as a kid."

"Yeah you told me, Bessie?"

"Yup. It was a gift from the Prime Minister of France. His wife spilled wine on my mother's favorite carpet during a dinner. So as a bribe, he bought me the dog."

"Huh. And I thought I had an eventful childhood. I think you are the only woman on the planet who I know who could tell that kind of story." Fitz said jovially, his eyes a flutter. His voice was deepening. He was softly beginning to drift to sleep.

The sight of him fully content was all she needed. There would always be the absurdities of life, their usual circumstances, but sitting by a crackling fire was too good to be true. She watched him with joy, handsome, at ease…

In her wildest, dizziest day dreams, she could not have conjured up the most perfect day. As he softly drifted to sleep, she placed a kiss on his forehead. She snuggled into him, taking his dog worn copy of _A Tale of Two Cities _and began reading

_It was the best of times…_

* * *

"How is he?" Mellie asked softly. Olivia was sitting in the kitchen on the phone. She walked into the sitting room to see him, adorably asleep on the couch.

"He's asleep. He's had a long week. That Darfur trip was no joke. How's the Senate?"

"Good, good, just trying to get this bill out of reconciliation. How's work?"

"Not bad, shitload of cases but I'm working through it. By the way, thanks for that article in the _Times_. I appreciate it you pulling strings."

"No problem, Olivia. Say, what are you two doing for Thanksgiving?"

Olivia sighed. She knew where this was going. "Mel, I don't know if he's ready for that yet. Not to mention, our schedules are so ridiculous, who knows. His memoirs are being published that week-"

"I…know. But I figured with the kids coming home, I don't want them to have to split time between me and the two of you. It would be nice?"

She could hear the pleading in her voice. She was really trying.

"I understand. And I wish we could. But so much has happened. I just don't see how that would work-"

"That's fine. I'm seeing Peter now …"

Olivia smiled. Imagine that.

"That's great!"

"Yeah. We are long distance for now. I just want to focus on the Senate. I spend so much time working."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Well, good luck with that. Speaking of long distance, spoke to the kids today, they are doing well, and my little Jer Bear has a girlfriend. How cute."

"I know, the kids, time flies by."

"She sounds adorable."

There was a silence that overtook the phone.

"Well, I have some briefings to go over. I'll talk to you soon?"

"Of course, have a nice night Mellie."

"You too."

Olivia hung up and sighed content. The gentle sound of footsteps greeted her ears. Fitz was up.

"Hi." He said groggily as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he sauntered over to her. Olivia smiled, getting up to hug him.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course, you know I can't sleep without you. Did I hear voices?"

"Yeah. Mellie called. Wanted to say hi."

"Or wish us a slow painful death."

"Fitz! Be nice. She's trying."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You know what she asked?"

"For me to drop dead?" He said sarcastically reveling in his embrace of Olivia. She moaned softly as his hands slipped into the waistband of her leggings.

"No, silly. She wants to spend Thanksgiving together?" She said apprehensively. He pulled away, looking her deep in the eye. There was a flash of annoyance in his face."

"How do you feel about it?" He asked confused.

She shrugged. "I don't know Fitz, she's trying. So far so good. Can't be easy on her. You saw her at the housewarming. She's really trying."

Olivia knew she was pleading, whining even. His features softened.

"Alright, I will think about it. I'm not saying yes, but I'm considering it."

She sighed. "Well is there anything I can do to convince you otherwise?" She joked, rubbing his shoulders. She pressed herself into him seductively. She could see the churning in his eyes. They were hooded.

_Bedroom eyes…_

"Ms. Pope, are you trying to seduce me into doing what you want?" He asked laughing at her sudden change in demeanor.

"No. Just trying to have midnight sex with my boyfriend. You got a problem with that?" She asked softly. A gentle moan left his lips…

"Never." He leaned down, taking her lips into a searing kiss.

_That's more I like it._ Olivia thought.

* * *

They had made love into dawn, slowly_, perfectly._.. As she lay in her slumbering lover's arms, staring out the window at the snowy picturesque scene outside, she reflected.

It seemed silly, but she loved normal. Normal was good. Normal meant no lies, no secrets. Normal meant a big bed with him every night. At least when he was in town. Gone were the days of rushed sex, hotel rooms and secrecy.

It seemed silly but she liked being able to be loud during sex. Not worry about staffers, aids and all the other nonsense of times past. She loved being able to make love in any room she wanted. She loved that she could talk about getting a dog with him.

She loved she had gone a whole evening without obsessing over work, data sheets. She rolled out of his arms, picking up her blackberry of the side table.

She had missed phone calls from Abby, Huck, Quinn and Harrison, emails about work, invites to fundraisers, dinner dates….

And most importantly, she loved ignoring every single one of them. Her night, her day had been too perfect for anyone to put a damper in her mood.


	17. The Mundane and The Absurd

"I propose a toast." Abby Whelan said loudly.

It was a late night at _Pope & Associate, _another case, another scandal that needed attending. A plastic surgeon to the Hollywood elite was being sued for malpractice for giving out procedures as gifts and performing illegal procedures on the black market. They had a long day meeting with the doctor's defense attorneys, pouring over medical records and arguing about a media approach. So far, they had been able to nail him an interview with _Kimberly Mitchell Tonight! _

A snowy night, a long day and short fuses however was being bookended with a nice pre-Thanksgiving meal, curtsey of Olivia. She had spent the past few days baking, frying and cooking for her associates. She had done it because in the small, dark offices, she had found a family in her island of misfit toys.

Before she had become domesticated, before she had belonged to someone else, she had belonged to them. She was their den mother, the gladiator in a suit that had led them out of their own personal darkness.

They all held up their coffee mugs when Abby stood up, beaming (or at least Huck attempted to beam).

"I propose a toast to all of us. I know we may not always get along-" Abby looked pointedly at Quinn who shook her head, overcome with the giggles.

"-or slept with the right people." She blew a playful kiss at Olivia. Olivia blew one back chuckling.

"But, in all our fights, hard work, we still are a family. We bust ass, we take names and we as Harrison would say-"

"Gladiators!" Harrison interrupted raising his arms in faux triumph. They laughed.

"Right. Gladiators. Most importantly, we need to propose a toast to our leader of the brigade. Ms. Olivia Carolyn Pope, aka, the First Girlfriend." Abby said jovially.

The whole table bursts into laughter. "Although she's gone all Martha Stewart on us and has shacked up with a Republican, we love her. Half of us would not be able to stand on our own two feet without her. Some of us would…"

Abby's blue eyes began to well up with tears. She wiped them away furiously.

"Ah…god, look at me, I'm melting. Some of us would not be alive without her. So here's to you Olivia. Thanks for finding us, putting us together and giving us a family. So cheers to fucking Olivia Pope!" Abby finished loudly.

"Cheers to Olivia fucking Pope!" The whole table yelled, clinking their glasses.

Olivia could not be more touched. She had tears in her eyes. It felt a little ridiculous struggling to keep herself composed. She had her moments, of not being fair to them, shutting them out, yelling at them. And yet, here they were, singing her praises.

"So, what is everyone doing for the holiday?" Quinn asked enthused, digging into a plate of stuffed mushroomed.

Huck, mouth full of mashed garlic potatoes. "Some old guys, guys for the old business are getting together at my place. Watch a football game, that kind of thing."

The whole table breathed a collective sigh. Huck was finally coming around.

"Aww…how sweet." Quinn said. "Okay, Harrison, do you want to tell them what we are doing?"

Harrison's handsome face breaking into a smile. He took Quinn's hand, giving it a chaste kiss.

"Yeah, umm, we are spending time with my family in Maryland." He said brightly, looking at Quinn. She blushed deeply.

Olivia continued to try and wipe the tears out of her eyes. This beyond touching. She could not help but see a glimmer of herself in Quinn's optimistic face when she looked at Harrison. It was beautiful, the elation of being in love.

"Abby, my favorite person in the whole world." Quinn said in a sing-song voice. "What are you doing for turkey day."

Abby shrugged, taking a large gulp out of her mug. "Oh, you know, I'm a lonely cat lady. No family, no boyfriend. So a nice turkey sandwich for me!"

There was shrillness to her tone. Despite the sarcastic body language and jovial mood, Olivia could sense the sadness. Here they were, everyone, even Huck had plans yet she would be stuck in her tiny Delaware Ave. apartment, watching old movies, eating take out.

Years ago, she was Abby. Hell, she, Abby and Stephen before he had a taste of normal would gather in Olivia's apartment or trek to her parent's home in Arlington during the holidays, keeping themselves company. They were the three amigos. Now, so much had changed. She had called Stephen to invite him to their little festive dinner, but he was spending his holiday with a pregnant Georgia in Scotland.

"_How's work?" He asked kindly. _

_Olivia laughed. "Turn on the television every now and then you will know."_

"_Speaking of which, what's this I hear about a certain friend of mine moving in with a boyfriend?"_

"_Yeah, I meant to tell you-"_

"_So the rumors are true. Have to say Liv, I'm really happy for you. How's the President?"_

"_Busy, busy and even busier."_

"_Is he behaving himself?"_

"_Of course, you know me, I keep a tight leash."_

"_Good. Are you behaving yourself Steph?" _

_There was a pregnant pause. "Tell Abby I miss her…"_

* * *

"Wow." Abby said quietly as she got out of the sleek Lincoln Navigator.

"Thanks Drew." Olivia said casually greeting the driver. She bundled her grey Prada coat to her form as they made their way up the snowy pathway that was Olivia's home.

"Are they always out here like this?" Abby said gesturing toward the dark Secret Service cars parked around the property.

Olivia laughed. "Of course, you thought they were only here during the housewarming?"

Abby nodded fiercely her eyes widening with awe. Olivia sighed deeply as they reached the door of her home.

There were certain luxuries that she had gotten used to now that she was with Fitz. For one, she had a driver and had given up driving. There was the security detail, either Tom or Hal that trailed her when she was working or out and about in D.C. It did not hurt that she no longer flew commercially, entirely reliant on a 787 Gulfstream. And then there was Miranda…

"Ms. Pope. How are you doing this evening." The older woman greeted as they walked into the house's large foyer, her familiar Irish brogue almost music to her ears.

"Hello, Mandy. How are you." Olivia greeted warmly, deploying her favorite nickname. "Mandy, you remember Abby?" Olivia said gently, introducing her to the older woman.

"Of course. Will she be staying for dinner?" Miranda asked brightly.

"No, I already feed her. However she's spending the night. She'll be flying to Vermont with Fitz and me tomorrow. So I'll need the linens in the guest room changed. Then I'm going to need you to call the staff in Vermont, tell them we have one extra person coming in for the holiday. The usual. Speaking of which, is Fitz home yet?"

"No, the President is not." Olivia nodded, checking her watch.

Abby looked confused. "Why isn't he home?"

Olivia laughed. "He's having dinner with the Secretary of State."

"Oh, right." Abby answered stunned.

* * *

"I can't believe your life." Abby said, sipping her glass of wine.

They were in the master suite of the house. Olivia had not gotten around to packing for her Thanksgiving trip and Abby was always a great help fashion wise. It did not hurt that her walk-in closet had a sitting area. It had not been finished the last time Abby was had delighted to see her associate's face when she had switched on the light.

_Wow, I need to screw married Presidents more often _had been her precise reaction.

Olivia shrugged. She never really thought about the changes. She would have liked to think her life was simple, normal. However judging by Abby's reactions, there was nothing normal about her life. Olivia had always been, well sheltered. Her childhood had been extremely happy, and she had never wanted for anything. So her life with Fitz never dawned on her to be something peculiar, or vaguely luxurious.

"Abby, it's really not that big of a deal. I mean-"

"Not that big of a deal? You have a closet the size of my apartment, freaking Mary Poppins who can whip up a crème Brule on demand and your boyfriend is having dinner with the nation's top diplomat. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were one of _those women."_ Abby said teasingly. Olivia scoffed at the thought.

"I am not!" She said playfully throwing a sweatshirt at Abby, but she was too fast, catching it.

"Oh yes you are. Before you know it, you'll be quitting the firm-"

"Yeah right-"

"…spending your days decorating your various homes for _Home & Gardens_."

"The day I turn into that woman is the day the cows come home. Now help me decide on what to pack." Olivia joked, running over to couch and plopping down.

Abby shook her head. "I don't know if you need my help, but let's see…" She said standing up examining the neatly folded cashmere sweaters across her path.

"Obviously we need a lot of warm clothes, are we skiing?"

"Of course. Do you need to borrow-"

"No, don't worry. I brought ski boots."

"How did you know?" Olivia asked bemused.

"Well, you're one of those women now, so I figured."

"Ha! You won't give it up." She poked Abby playfully in her side.

"Okay, no poking! Now, so who else is coming to this winter wonderland extravaganza?"

Olivia sighed, standing up and running a nervous hand through her hair. She could practically see the blood draining from Abby's face.

"My parents, his mom, the kids, Cyrus, his partner James, you and Mellie."

Abby immediately dropped the pair of Gucci boats she had been eyeing. Her mouth fell open. Olivia knew what was coming. She could see it written in her face.

"Have…you…lost…It!" Abby exclaimed, causing Olivia to flinch.

"I know, it's weird, but she's bring a plus one and-"

"Are you a masochist!"

Olivia rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "No, I'm not. I'm a grown woman and so is she. There are kids involved, families included. It would be lovely to spend the rest of my life being bitter and angry."

"She blackmailed you!" She yelled incredulous, sitting down shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, she blackmailed me. But that's in the past. No more. We have to be adults." Olivia shrugged rationally.

Abby sneered. "You can learn to do that? The woman who got all dolled up in that Calvin Klein number just to get her husband all riled up at a state dinner?"

"Okay, so I've had moments of weakness. No one is perfect. But, let bygones be bygones. You know?" She reasoned.

She could see the wheels churning in Abby's head. "I guess, but if I were you, I'd push her off the cliff while we were skiing."

Olivia laughed loudly. "How about you do that, and I'll bail you out of jail."

"Well, it's not like we haven't been there before." Abby said warmly.

It was nice, just being them. The changes in her life, while resulting in a much more routine in her life had altered the old routines.

"Good point, besides, I might not even have time to push her down the stairs, between all the guest, we still have to keep up with the case-"

But as she was listing her responsibilities, something in the far corner of her closet caught Abby's eye.

"What is that?"

"Huh?"

Olivia looked around. Her stomach dropped. There was a rather large La Perla shopping bag in the corner. She had completely forgotten about that. She had order a few…things for her trip. It was supposed to be a surprise for Fitz. After all, he never came in this closet, often joking that he would get lost in a mirage of designer clothes. It would have been a nice way to take the edge off of a long flight and a full house of relatives.

"Ohh…Olivia, what did you buy."

"Okay, Abby leave-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the spry red head sprinted across the room and began rummaging through.

"Abby! No!" Olivia squealed, horrified running over to prevent further embarrassment. She knew she would never live it down.

"Wow, Liv. I think we may have a lace deficit after this trip. The President is a lucky man." She playfully pulled out a lacy demi-cup bra and waved it around. Olivia felt her body heating up with dread.

"Livy is a freak, Livy is a freak." Abby sang in a sing song voice, running around in a little circle, laughing hysterically.

"Abs, give it back!" Olivia said chasing her. But Abby's long legs were too quick for her. Eventually they had collapsed into a laughing fit, exhausted at their childish antics.

It was silly really, running around her closet like wild animals, but they did not care. They had a terrible case of the giggles so strong, they were both lightheaded, rolling on the floor.

"Seriously Liv, did you buy up the whole store?"

"No, just enough to-" But much to her horror, the sound of footsteps greeted her ears.

"Liv?" A deep voice came at the doorway. Olivia shot up to see a very confused Fitz standing mouth open at the scene before him. _What the hell? _

There was an awkward silence that over took the room for a brief second. Obviously, this had not been what he had expected to see when he walked into the door this evening.

"How… was your day, honey?"

Olivia laughed at how confused he looked. "Abby was just helping me pack."

"Hello, Abby." He waved awkwardly.

"Pleasure seeing you again, Mr. President." Abby greeted, bursting into laughter at the word 'pleasure'.

Fitz was looking at Abby as though she had three heads. He was clearly not in on the joke. Olivia shook her head.

"Inside joke." Olivia explained as Abby tried to contain herself. But a simple glance over at the pile of lingerie spilling out of the shopping bag told him all he needed to know. A look of shy realization overtook his handsome features.

"No, no, thanks I think I've got the gist of it."


	18. A Pair of Pie Pals

"Come on baby, five minutes."

"No."

Fitz sighed as he rolled onto his back. This was not how he had exactly managed spending his evening. He had just spent hours having the Secretary of State talking his ear off while drinking terrible wine and eating bite-sized French cuisine. He had hoped to come home to a warm house, Miranda's rich Irish dishes and a very overworked Olivia who wanted to take her frustrations out on him. Only two out of three of those things occurred.

He was swamped in interviews pertaining to his memoirs being released and he was planning a trip with President Langston to tour refugee camps in Northern Africa. Not to mention, he was not exactly looking forward to this Vermont getaway, now that Mellie was included on the ever extending guest list. Apparently Olivia's very brash friend and colleague Abby was flying with them tomorrow. Suffice to say they would not be renewing their membership to the Mile High Club anytime soon. He needed a release.

He turned over, spooning Olivia's small form. He knew it was late, but his whole body was buzzing with sexual frustration. It was toxic, frankly.

Olivia moaned annoyed as Fitz's very prominent excitement poked her in the back.

"What did I say? I have a long day tomorrow. We can fuck each other's brains out in Vermont I promise." She mumbled, half asleep.

"I don't know if I can wait that long." He whined petulantly. If Olivia had been one of those women who went to bed in granny nightgowns or childish pajamas he would be able to contain himself. But the idea of her lying next to him in nothing but a slinky black nightie was too much. The soft sensation of her skin was way too much. Her hair being pulled back into that messy bun was way too tempting…

He placed soft kisses on her smooth shoulders, grinding into her softly as he wrapped his arm around her thin waist. His hand traveled slowly downwards.

"Mm." She moaned as he delicately played with her most intimate of folds. He could already feel the moisture.

"Baby…"

"Yeah?"

"Fitz."

"God, I love it when you say my name." He groaned in her ear. But she turned over quickly, facing him, a menacing expression that withered away his hardened erection. Her large eyes were narrowed into slits, glimmering with annoyance in the moonlight.

"I just spent the last few days baking, cooking for my collogues. I have a case that involves a man giving penile implants away as Christmas gifts to his gulf buddies and being sued by the wife of one of said man who got said penile implant because she claimed she got injured during sex. I have a busy weekend, where I have to deal with two teens, three senior citizens, your ex-wife, her new boyfriend and I have to get the house ready in time before they all arrive, all the while trying to stay sane. And on top of that, my best friend is lonely on Thanksgiving and I have to cheer her up-"

"I thought I was your best friend-"Fitz said smugly, interrupting Olivia's tirade. Her face softened, a grin spreading on her face.

"I'm serious, love. I'm exhausted. Just this night? I promise I'll make it worth your while." She said softly. She kissed him tenderly, which did nothing to help his need.

"You better." He said darkly as she cuddled close to him. "I come home and see you rolling around in your closet with another woman, playing with lingerie, yet I don't get laid. Where is the justice?"

Olivia giggled gently. "You make it sound so sexual. Look, why don't you go down, get a drink, and take the edge off. Mandy made your favorite dessert tonight; it's on the top shelf of the fridge. Go have some of that dessert. It might take your mind off of my cookies. What do you think?"

Fitz rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He could not believe her.

"I think you can't be serious. I'm not going to be less horny eating?"

Olivia sniggered, rubbing her feet in between his legs. "Well, it's not the same as eating me, but it's a start."

He growled with frustration, rolling out of bed. He could not do this; lie down next to her while she was being such a tease.

"Where are you going, aww, did I hurt your feelings?" Olivia laughed sleepily as Fitz headed to the bedroom door. He looked at her, lounging so invitingly. Life was so unfair.

"To go stuff my face. Think of it as revenge. I will gain a bunch of weight. When I'm all fat and gross, you won't want to have sex with me." He taunted. Olivia smiled, her smile illuminating the darkness of the bedroom.

"Fitz, stop being such a baby. Besides-"She said turning over, yawning. "I don't screw you because you are hot; I screw you because you don't need penile implants. Fitz could not help but smile.

"I hate you." He mocked as he walked out the bedroom.

"Hate you too fatty!" She yelled through laughter as the door closed behind him.

* * *

Fitz had arrived downstairs softly. Normally, all the lights were off at this hour when no one was downstairs. So it was rather peculiar to turn out of the foyer into a hallway having the warm light of the kitchen spill out onto him.

It took his eyes some time to adjust to the change from darkness to the light, but when they did, the stumbled upon a scene that put a damper in his already crappy mood. Abby was sitting behind the kitchen counter in her pajamas eating what looked like _his _dessert. His Bailey's mousse pie that was his favorite and was completely off limits to anyone. _Just shoot me now. _

"Hello." She greeted coolly, spooning the creamy delicatessen into her mouth. He sighed.

It was not that he did not like Abby. She seemed fairly nice, in her own brutish way. She was harsh, a bit shrill and he always felt like her icy blue eyes were judging him. In other words, there was something…sort of Mellie-like to her that scared him.

"Hi." He greeted casually, trying to not give any signs of his annoyance. He walked over to the fridge and opened it to see if there was any more pie left for him. _Thank God. _He grabbed it

"This is amazing." She said quietly. He turned around slowly as he cocked an eyebrow. Great. Not only was she going to ruin his sex on the plane fantasy for the Vermont trip, she was rubbing her pie theft in his face. The look of glee on her face as she ate his pie irritated him.

"Yeah." Fitz said pulling a fork out of the dishwasher and taking a seat next to her. An awkward silence hung the air.

"You're going to eat the whole thing?" She asked incredulous. Fitz looked at her pointedly.

"Miranda makes the pie especially for me."

A look of realization washed over her slight features. "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. President. Really, I didn't know, I hate it when people touch my food. Here!"

She shoved the saucer of the half eaten pie. He smiled, his annoyance melting. She was hysterical.

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. She nodded.

"Thanks, because this is really good. I mean super good. I'm a baker and I could not come up with this shit right here."

Fitz smiled as he dug into the delicious pie. "I know. Miranda is amazing isn't she?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah, she's a sweetheart. But you're really going to eat that whole pie by yourself?"

"Do you want more?"

She shook her head. "No, no I'm good. Shouldn't have been eating it to begin with, but your so…you know. Hot."

He almost choked on his pie. "I don't mean that to degrade you or make you feel weird but I find it odd that a man who looks as good as you do for your age eats whole pies."

He stared at her. He could not help but smile. She did not realize she was being insulting or rude. It must be nice being that unfiltered.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment." He said awkwardly.

"You should. Frankly, you're the best looking President I've ever seen up close anyway. Especially for a Republican." She said nodding absentmindedly. He laughed.

"Thanks, Abby." What a riot. No wonder Olivia was her friend. "I didn't know Democrats had a monopoly on good looks.

She shrugged, running a hand through her messy red hair. "Believe me they don't. I went out on a blind date with a staffer for Olivia's dad, you know back when he was in the Senate. And let me tell you, that guy got smacked with the ugly stick."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that" Fitz said, swallowing his laughter.

Another awkward silence fell upon them as they tucked into their pie.

"Mr. President, can I ask you something?" Abby asked loudly. He stared at her. She looked like she was struggling with something. He shrugged.

"Sure. And for the record, it's like midnight, you're eating my pie in my house, I think you've earned the right to call me Fitz." He said warmly.

"Thanks. Why do men…" She stopped, shaking her head furiously. Her spastic nature while funny before seemed more pained now. There was clearly something on my mind.

"Go on, ask."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "Why do men marry women they don't love?"

Her eyes were wide, sorrowful. He pushed his pie aside. He knew that look all too well. He had worn it many times years ago on dark nights in the Oval Office while talking to Cyrus.

"Well, companionship, financial reasons, political ambition." He said jokingly. Though his light tone was not helping her mood. She seemed to be growing more serious by the second.

"I'm serious." She said sadly.

"Something tells me we aren't talking about me." Fitz said quietly. There was an apprehension in her eyes that disquieted him. "Is this something you've talked to Liv about?"

"No, she would think I'm crazy, but, you know Stephen, right? Stephen Finch? He used to-"

"Work for Olivia yeah." Fitz said his stomach turning with annoyance. The smug bastard.

"Well, he's married now, lives in Boston. He has this great life, his wife is pregnant. But-"

"But?" Fitz inquired. He knew where this was going.

"But he still calls me. From time to time. When things get bad for him. He had a nervous breakdown a couple of years ago and he calls me. And I know him, we worked together, closely for years and he…he told me he loved me. And yet, he left. Moved away. Never bothered to even call to let me know the day he left. And now he calls me at night, saying all the things he should have said. And I know he does not say he loves me, but I can feel it."

Fitz's heart broke for her. He knew that feeling. He knew what it felt like to be on the other end of a phone, so close yet so far away from the one he loved.

"Wait, I thought Stephen and Liv-"

"No! Never, please, they were like siblings from another mother. I wish they had gotten together. It would have made everything easier. No offense." She joked as her eyes welled up.

"None taken." Fitz said softly. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I mean, what kind of fucking name is Georgia anyway? What a fucking bullshit name!" She vented, folding her arms.

Fitz smiled. "Well, speaking from someone who has a bullshit name-"

She laughed. "No way, you don't."

He looked at her with a blank face. "Really? If Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III doesn't scream pretentious douche bag, I don't know what does. I'm surprised I didn't get my ass kicked in high school; then again, I went to a prep school." She laughed out loud, a bark like laugh that echoed through the house.

She eventually settled down. "But seriously, why do men do it?" He sighed.

"Honestly, because we are trying to prove something. To ourselves, to the world, maybe. I was a screw up as a kid. I chased girls, fucked anything in a skirt. My dad was old school and thought I should settle down. 'Son, think about your political future.' He used to say. So I married the only girl in the world who thought more about my political future than my dad. Twenty years, two terms latter, and many emotional scars, I've survived. I was slapped with the love stick at the wrong time. And yes, my marriage failed, and I made mistakes, but I found Liv. That's all that matters, does that make sense."

He gave her a kind smile. She nodded slowly as if understood. "So what's your secret, Mr. President?"

"Well, all I know is he may just call you today. And you may love him today. But if he loves you, the way I hope he does, he'll show up at your door. But don't sell yourself short. Life waits for no one. "

There was a shuffling of feet that greeted their ears. He looked up to see a sleep Livy walking into the kitchen her eyes weary with sleep. She yawned widely.

"Hey, babe. You've been down here a while." She said, slinking over to Fitz and wrapping her arms around him. "Hey Abs, wow, Fitz, sharing your beloved pie. He doesn't even let me eat his pie." She joked. Fitz smiled.

"Yeah, well, Liv, maybe you should be nicer to him and he might share." Abby said, shooting Fitz a knowing smile. He nodded.

"Tell her. She was mean to me."

"I was not!"

"You don't share your pie." He winked at Olivia, she rolled her eyes.

"Mm-hmm, whatever. What time is it?" Olivia asked. Fitz looked over at the clock.

"A little after one." He could feel the pie taking its desired effect. He felt lethargic, sleepy.

"Bed." Olivia said knowingly. He chuckled softly, getting up as Olivia began cleaning up the dessert plates. Fitz placed a loving kiss on her lips.

"I better be getting pie." He whispered playfully. She giggled.

"Not tonight you're not. You might have, but not after the mess you just made down here. " She whispered back with a flirtatious wink.

"Goodnight Abby."

He started to walk out the kitchen, yet he heard his name.

"Fitz!"

He turned around to see Abby smiling brightly. "Thanks for the advice."

He smiled, shrugging. "Anytime."

As he walked out, he heard Abby and Olivia talking.

_Fitz? Wow, nice to know you guys have graduated to first name basis._

_You know, you were right about him. He's not all hair and abs._

_Ha! Took you long enough. _


	19. New Memories and Old

**Thanks so much for the reviews gladiators. I really appreciate it. I've had these chapters completed for a while, I've just gotten around to editing them and putting them up. Nonetheless, I really appreciate the reviews for this story. Thanks xoxo.**

* * *

The house in Vermont was the oldest house of all the Grant properties. It dated all the way back to the late 18th century, when the state became a member in the union. The wealthy Klan of Fitzgerald that had made their money in the importation of whiskey had built the home and had passed it along the generations for years. Fitz's great great grandfather had been born in the home.

It was vast, overlooking a lake, with acres for days, secluded and private. Over the years, there had been numerous renovations; additions and tweaking to the home to maintain it, but the historical integrity of the home still exist. It still had a well on the property and a wood-fuelled cast iron oven that was currently roasting two large turkeys slowly.

The vast kitchen, made of dark cherry wood was brimming with guest. Mellie, Karen, Abby, Olivia's mother, Fitz's mother and James were kneading dough, whisking batter, frying and cooking up a storm while Fitz, Gerry, Cyrus, Fitz's father and Peter Sterling, the former Congressmen and Mellie's plus one played football in the snow.

"Karen, baby, be a doll and put some more flour in the bowl." Olivia's mother drawled, helping the teenage girl make a proper pie crust. Karen had her mother's striking looks, but the look of determined focus on her face was all Grant.

Olivia smiled at the scene as she tended to the stuffed crab cakes.

"Your mother is such a Southern Belle." James said quietly, nudging Olivia in the side. Olivia laughed, observing her mother. While the rest of them were in jeans and sweaters, covered in flour, she was dressed in an elegant cream dress, her salt and pepper curls pulled back in a flawless bun. She was the only woman Olivia knew who wore diamond earrings for leisure.

"Ha! Ma." Olivia called loudly across the room.

"Yes dear?" Her mother looked up. She smiled.

"James thinks you're a Southern Belle."

Her mother rolled her eyes chuckling. "Oh honey, you know I am. There is no other way to live life."

Sloan Grant laughed. "I don't know Doris; I'd have to disagree with you there. We women up north are pretty scrappy, aren't we Mel?" Fitz's mother joked, while pouring generous amounts of bourbon in the pudding.

Mellie shook her head, smiling. "I guess you could say that. But there is nothing like a broad from Boston. At least that is what my mom used to say."

Olivia smiled. This was nice. No fighting and no insult,s with just the girls and James cooking. So far so good.

Abby let out a loud bark, as she seasoned the ham. "I know that's true. My Nana could take on the best of them and she was from Boston."

"I think I just died and went to heaven. A kitchen filled with beautiful women cooking." A gruff voice came. Olivia turned to see her father trekking in along with the rest of the men from the patio.

"Wow." Fitz said, amazed. Olivia stared at him, distracted. Unlike everyone else, he was not bundled up under hats, scarves and gloves. Instead he was beet red, dressed in nothing but snow boots, jeans and his maroon Harvard sweatshirt. When he came up behind her, wrapping himself around her, her body shivered.

"Baby?"

"Yes dear."

"Why are you dressed like that? Are you nuts? You're going to be-"

But before she could finish her thought, she caught Mellie, Sloan, Karen and Gerry exchanging humored looks.

"Am I missing something?" Olivia asked bemused.

Sloan laughed loudly, taking a seat behind the dark cherry wood table. "Honey, Grant men don't play football on this property wearing coats."

Olivia was confused. What did this property have to do with anything? Fitz could catch a terrible cold. Fitz laughed, placing a kiss on Olivia's cheek.

"That's right, tell her mom. I'm a hot blooded Grant, a proud Scot. All we need is-"

"…a stiff one in your glass and a stiff one in your Bonnie lass." Sloan finished loudly. The whole room laughed a raucous laugh. Mellie blushed deeply, looking embarrassed as she laughed into her hand.

Olivia rolled her eyes. Yet another Grant tradition.

"Sorry Olivia, if it's any help, I think that quote is sexist and gross." Karen said giggling at Olivia's face.

"Hey! That's your great grandfather you're talking about, Kar." Fitz joked, much to the rooms delight.

James chuckled delighted. "He sounds like such the charmer." Olivia laughed.

"Oh, please. He was a drunk degenerate long on libido and short on fuse, or at least that's what Mrs. Grant told me." Mellie said jokingly.

"Again, he sounds like a charmer." Olivia's father said laughing, taking a seat at the round table along with the rest of the men, although Fitz still embraced Olivia from behind, lovingly admiring her as she cooked.

She smiled widely. "Babe, as charming as your great great Pa's advice was, I would like for you to bundle up." She turned away from her stuffed crab cakes, wrapping her arms around him. He looked so boyish, ruby red, his nose practically burgundy from the cold.

He winked at her. "Not a chance. You are in Grant territory, kid, no way in hell am I breaking the rules."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Uh-oh." Cyrus said, laughing loudly. "Fitz, this maybe Grant country, but Olivia is sheriff around these parts."

"He has a point Fitz; you might want to stop while you are ahead. My Olive is as stubborn as a mule." Stanley Lee Pope said laughing right along with Cyrus.

"Well Senator I will have you know that Olivia can easily be persuaded." Fitz said laughing. Olivia shook her head. _He clearly was messing with the wrong woman._

She tiptoed, pulling him down by the strings of his hoodie and whispered. "Baby, you like pie? Don't you?" Her tone was low, dangerous and husky. The glimmer in his eye when he pulled away let her know he knew that the discussion had nothing to do with dinner tonight.

"Oh you play hardball, Liv. That's just mean." He grinned.

"Well, if you want what you were begging for last night, I suggest you go put on a coat…and now." She winked slowly, brushing her rear against him ever so slightly as she turned back around. She heard him sigh.

"Come on boys, let's go back outside. And this time I guess I'll have to wear a coat." Fitz said defeated. A Cheshire grin spread across Olivia's face as the room hooted and hollered with laughter at Fitz's sudden change of thought.

"Jeez, Liv, what did you do?" Abby asked stunned as the guys pilled out the room. Fitz shot her a flirtatious look as he headed out the door.

"Oh, just a nice little suggestion, that's all."

* * *

Dinner had been a delightful event, jokes, stories and warm feelings. Never in her life did Olivia think that she would be breaking bread with Mellie, laughing about old times from Fitz's first campaign. Nor did she think her genteel mother and Fitz's brash mother would hit it off so well. That Karen and Gerry would come to love their mother's new boyfriend or Cyrus the shrewd Republican operator and her lionized former Democratic Senator father sharing a toast.

It warmed her heart really the whole day. Everything had gone off without a hitch. Maybe it was the majesty of the house, the food, she did not know what, but something had finally clicked. Dessert had been an even better event, as everyone piled in the expansive parlor room.

Her mother, a lovely soprano had sung a delightful rendition of "Just the Way You Look Tonight" while her father played the vintage piano, triggering lovely memories of past childhood holidays for Olivia.

After much goading from James, Cyrus, Olivia, the kids and Mellie, Fitz pulled out his old guitar, treating everyone to the old election night routine when he would sing for good luck.

"Play 'Yesterday' by the Beatles." Abby yelled.

"Or how about a little Fleetwood Mac?" Gerry then suggested.

Fitz laughed playfully fingering his stray lock. "How about Elvis?" He curled his lip, doing a spot on imitation of the late great.

"No!" They all yelled in unison.

"Alright, alright." He said grinning.

Eventually they settled on Jonathan Edwards' "Sunshine". Seeing him strumming his guitar, his rich voice, melodically filling the room made Olivia swoon like a teenage girl. They all clapped, singing along, demanding an encore.

The night would wear on, one by one each person retiring to their guest room, leaving Olivia and Fitz to sit around with nothing but a bottle of bourbon, a vintage record player and a handsome fire.

"You are so old!" Olivia squealed as they rummaged through Fitz's record collection. Olivia waved around a vinyl Frank Sinatra record.

Fitz laughed. "Hey, not old kid, classic." He winked at her as she smiled, shaking her head.

"Seriously? Vinyl's Fitz? We have these new fangled things called IPods. I'll get you one." But he shook his head.

"Nope, I refuse to listen to the classics on an IPod."

"Come on!"

"No, it's not the same. Are you serious? It will drain all the good stuff out of it." He said holding his ground.

Olivia shot him a skeptical look, as she thumbed through the old crate, looking for something that was at least made 30 years ago.

"Ah. Yes! Found it." Fitz said pulling out an old Al Green record. Olivia's heart jumped. She remembered another snowy night, very similar to this one years ago in a Ohio hotel during primary season. They had been listening to an old juke box…

"Good Ol' Reverend Al." He said wistfully. Olivia scooted closer to him, draining the last of her bourbon.

"Yeah remember-"

"Cleveland?" He interrupted, cupping her cheek, his big hand softly rubbing. The memories came flooding back.

"Put it on." She whispered. He smirked, standing up and pulling the record out of its cover, gently placing it on the record player.

Olivia closed her eyes, listening for that familiar scratching sound. It was heaven. The gentle timbre of their song began to spill in the room, muffled, old yet so right.

"Here that?" Fitz asked softly. Olivia nodded. She understood. "You can't get that to sound that good on an IPod."

"Mm." She sighed softly opening her eyes. She watched him, mouthing the words, knowing his mind was traveling back in time right along with hers.

"Dance with me." She pleaded softly, rising to her feet. He looked up at her, smiling knowingly. He swayed a bit as he stood, a bit taken with the bourbon, but he found his way to her.

In that moment, they had traveled to another time. A time of deep soulful need. A snowy night when their love, which ran deep had been contained to a bottle and a jukebox. A time when they could not hold each other, swaying sensually, whispering in each other's ear like the way they did now. The exquisite pain of wanting each other so badly, yet not being allowed to act on their need outside the confines of hotel rooms and campaign offices.

_I can think of younger days when living for my life_

_Was everything a man could want to do?_

_I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow._

"I love this version." Fitz said huskily into Olivia's ear, sending chills up her spin.

"I know. I hate that other version. All pop-"

"…no soul, no grit. It's too easy. Too slick. It should be like this, rough, organic."

Olivia's heart was drowning in the overflow of love that was Fitz's gaze and his touch. The music, their love, the liquor took hold, culminating in a soul stirring kiss.

Their lips moved slowly. It was as if they were making up for that night. They did not rush. That night, he had to retire to his hotel room, to Mellie, to responsibilities of a candidate. No longer did he have to rush.

Olivia led him to the sofa, never breaking the kiss. The rational part of her brain that knew she had guests who could walk in to the parlor at any time no longer existed. She did not give a damn. In this moment, her heart was full, her body was ablaze. She ran her hands aggressively through his forest of dark curls as he explored her breasts with his hands so softly and gently, she could have died a happy woman in that moment.

"Oh, God, make love to me Fitz." She said breathlessly. "Don't ever stop making love to me."

Fitz would grant her wish, for hours. They would eventually leave the parlor for their bedroom where he continued to grant her wish.

When the final tremor of climax faded, they laid in each other's arms, speaking quietly, reminiscing of on the lovely Thanksgiving dinner and the old days of the campaign trail.

"Remember that night in Florida?"

"No, that wasn't Florida. It was Texas."

"How do you remember?" Olivia asked, her chin resting on Fitz's chest. He smiled lazily as he struggled to keep his sleepy eyes open.

"I remember because you wore that dress. It drove me crazy for days. It was satin?"

"Silk. Now I remember. That was amazing."

"Yeah, the good old days, right?" He said slowly. Olivia chuckled softly.

"Yeah, the bad old, good old days…"


	20. Bearing the Truth

"Just put it in already!"

"I don't know about this…"

"Seriously, if you don't-"

"Alright, alright!"

"Just be gentle; don't shove it in so fast."

"Well then stop clenching up so much!"

Olivia had her fair share of awkward moments. She had handled embarrassing cases, hell she was handling a penile malpractice case now, but this was too much.

The house hushed with the morning dawn, snow whipping around the bright windows. She had always been an early riser, hating to waste a second more than she had to in bed. She rose, showered and slipped into a pair of her favorite Levi skinny jeans, Fitz's soft cashmere sweater, the one that always smelled like his cologne and her Ugg slippers.

She sat silently in the bedroom by the fire reading and working as she enjoyed the peace and quiet of the day. She enjoyed her green tea, and glancing at Fitz occasionally. He looked so at ease in his sleep, so adorable hugging onto a pillow that she did not have it in her to wake him. The sight induced butterflies in her stomach and a smile that Olivia just could not wipe off her face. Especially after how wonderful last night had been for them.

Olivia had finally ended up draining her mug of green tea, needing to refill when she had left her bedroom to go to the kitchen, where she had made a few phone calls for work that she could not make with a slumbering Fitz in the bedroom. So that is how she ended up caught outside a door on her way back to her bedroom, listening to what she should not be hearing coming out of Mellie and Peter's room. Her face felt hot and yet she had a strong desire to laugh. How very "Mellie" of her to demand that he "shove it in."

_This is too funny._ Olivia thought bewildered as she scurried back into her bedroom as fast as she could without spilling her tea. She opened the door to see the bed empty, but as she took a seat she heard movement in the master bathroom…

"Good morning handsome!" Olivia called, sauntering over the bathroom to see him stepping out the shower.

"Hey! There you are, stealing my clothes again?" He said pointing at the oversized black sweater Olivia was wearing. Olivia smiling shook her head. He grinned.

"You know I look good in them, speaking of clothes, or lack thereof guess what I just heard?" She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. He looked confused as he wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist.

"What?"

"Somebody was having a little 'sexy time'. I heard it when I was in the hallway." Fitz looked bemused, walking out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom, Olivia followed him giggling.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. And guess who?" She put her hands on her hips, smiling wide.

He shook his head smiling. "I'm guessing not your parents, because if anything, you would be more grossed out than amused so I'm going to go with Cyrus and James?"

Olivia shook her head the smile on her face spreading from ear to ear. Then a look of sudden realization hit him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Liv, they weren't having sex. Believe me." He said laughing.

"Really, how are you so sure? Come on, I know she's an ice queen but we cannot be the only ones having all the fun." She said as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Fitz.

He rolled his eyes. "Liv, I know Mellie like the back of my hand. I know what Peter was doing, and it wasn't sexy time."

Olivia poked him in the side. "Are you jealous. I have to say, I could learn a thing or two from her, I mean, "shove it in?" Pretty kinky stuff." She asked playfully, wiggling her eyebrows once more.

"Ha! Not at all, believe me, I'm fine. As far as Mellie is concerned, she doesn't do morning sex. He was probably giving her shots."

Olivia was confused. As she observed Fitz, the jovial mood that she had greeted him with was slowly evaporating. His brow was furrowed. There was the shadow of apprehension in his face.

"What shots?" She inquired, lying down on the bed, her foot softly grazing Fitz's muscular back. He turned to look at her, but his eyes were shifting around awkwardly.

"You, know…she and Peter are serious and he told me yesterday, while we were outside that they…wanted to take their relationship to the next…level."

His voiced hitched uncharacteristically at the word "level". Olivia's smile vanished. She knew when Fitz was trying to say something, and he could not bring himself to utter the words.

"Umm…I guess you weren't talking about B-12 vitamins?" Olivia asked, fearing the answer to her question.

"No, I was not." He said softly. He stood up, walking toward the bathroom. Olivia's voice was caught in her throat. The tears began to well up in the back of her throat. She felt embarrassed, childish and stupid. There it was yet another stupid reminder of her deficiency. It was not something that bothered her as much. She liked their life, just the two of them. She had learned to accept the fact that it would be only the two of them for the rest of their lives or so she thought.

"Does it bother you?" Olivia asked silently as the tears formed in her eyes. He turned around slowly trying to maintain composure. He breathed in deeply.

"Liv"

"Seriously Fitz, why didn't you say something last night? Doesn't it bother you that she-" Olivia asked quietly, trying to swallow the tears.

He sighed deeply, running his hand through his wet curls. "Honestly no."

"No, so you aren't bothered by the fact that Mellie, who has years on me is trying to get pregnant, yet I can't? Because I'm the one with the fucked up fallopian tubes?" Olivia spat viciously. He looked taken aback, his mouth opening into a shocked "O". She had no idea where all this hostility was coming from.

"Let me get this straight, last night, a lovely night where we had fun, and I was swimming in bourbon, you wanted me to just causally say 'oh, by the way, my ex-wife is trying to get knocked up artificially?'" He asked sardonically. Olivia folded her arms defensively.

"Well, it would be nice."

"Actually no it wouldn't be? You want to know why?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, sighing watching him. His eyes were darkening with anger. He had righteous indignation oozing out of his pores.

"I'll tell you why. I'm 53, Olivia. I'm busy, I travel, and I'm an ex-President for god sake. On any given day I have the likes of Dali Lama or the Secretary of State calling to ask me for favors. I have two teenage children, both of whom will be going to college in the next year. And while yes 10 years ago it would have been nice to have more children, and pick out the nursery or whatever, right now, in my life, I'm fine. I have all I need. I have you. So even if, even if I we could conceive, I'm not sure I would want to!"

There was a silence that fell in the room. Olivia was shocked. "So you don't want children?" She asked hushed.

He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's not that I don't want more children, Livy, but it's not something I obsess over. And I would like to think you don't either."

Olivia did not know how to feel. There was a lot of truth to what he was saying. How practical with their lives would children be? It hurt knowing she would not at least have the opportunity but she had always wanted to have children, because she thought that was what he wanted.

"Look." He said cautiously, walking over to her side of the bed. "I'm sorry, it's just, well, sometimes you envision your life and part of that used to include the picket fence and the dog-"

"We could still get a dog?" Olivia offered sweetly, drying the tears from her eyes.

"Finally you're coming to my side of things." He smirked. "Like I was saying, what we have, is fine. You and me, okay?" He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, calming Olivia's worries. She sighed with relief.

"Now, something I want to square away right now, I have you in my bed, and-" His voice dropped as his eyes churned. "I'm a very satisfied man, I'll have you know. What I don't want to do is discuss the sex life of my ex-wife in the morning. Been there, done that, not fun, got it?"

Olivia shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Sorry, I was just kidding."

He shook his head, playfully smiling. "I know, but still, I have neither the stomach to do so, it's like well, joking about your sister's sex life."

Olivia laughed. "That's ridiculous, she's the mother of your children. How did you-"

"A lot of alcohol and desperation. It was never a lot of fun. More like an itch that we would scratch…every couple of years." He squirmed at the thought. She giggled. It was rather strange to even be having this conversation.

"That's…not very good." Olivia said shaking her head laughing.

"So you can understand my need to not relive the bad old days. The next time you decide to joke about Mellie shoving anything anywhere, you and Mr. Vibrator will be keeping each other warm." He laughed.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Please, I threw that thing out months ago when we moved in together."

* * *

They would all go skiing after breakfast at the local ski lodge. Gerry and Fitz, ever the athletes opted for snowboarding. Olivia had been nervous at Fitz's devil may care attitude on the slopes, but she had no really reason to worry, seeing that he was so skilled and clearly had a lot of practice. Mellie, Karen and Abby were excellent skiers, gracefully making her way down the slopes and trying to teach the less adequate skiers how to ski.

The older guests, like Cyrus, the parents had opted to stay in the heated lounge sipping hot chocolate, talking politics.

They had been headed back to the house, loading up in the cars, Olivia had somehow ended up in the last vehicle. It had been awkward at first. They had not had many moments alone, always in the kitchen or surrounded by other people. It was truly the first moment they had alone in two days.

_This sucks. _Olivia thought, drumming her glove clad hands on the creamy leather seats, trying to avoid Mellie's gaze.

"Today was fun." Mellie said softly, her voice cutting sharply through the silence.

Olivia looked at her and nodded smiling. She took a deep breath. More silence persisted.

"Is Fitz always that crazy on the slopes?" Olivia asked politely, trying to start conversation. It was a question she already knew the answer to.

Mellie smiled softly, her eyes aglow. It was odd to see her so at peace, so happy. There was a lack of severity in her porcelain like features that was rather interesting.

"Yes. He's quite the risk taker. Always an all-around athlete. Football, basketball, whatever. But _you_ probably already know that."

Olivia could sense a tension in the way she finished her sentence. _Please let this not be a disaster. _

"Yeah but I can't heIp but worry-"

"Don't. He knows what he's doing. He's always been like that, taking risk, raising everyone's high blood pressure. I used to think he did that on purpose to piss me off, but no, that's just Fitz being Fitz."

She sighed deeply, looking outside the window it was snowing again…

"Mellie?" Olivia blurted. She took a deep breath. She did not know why she was even doing this but she felt like it was necessary. She looked around, her lips in a tugging downward. Maybe because she still felt guilty about laughing at her this morning, maybe she wanted to apologize for feeling jealous about her ability to bare children.

"Please, don't Olivia. I know what you are going to do. And save it. You didn't do anything. Stop feeling bad for what happened. It happened, it is in the past. Done."

"But-"

"Please. I couldn't bare it. I spend all my time these days, praying, hoping for whatever higher being there is in this world to forgive me. It's taken a long time. A lot of self-reflection a lot of prayer and Peter to move me to this point. To not resent you or him or to even bring myself to this point. I'm starting anew. I'm going to marry Peter, build my life with him and have children brought into this world out of love, not ambition. Don't apologize to me. I'm happy, I'm at ease. Does it still sting to see him with you, touching you, looking at you the way he does, and knowing he could not even stand to be in the same room with me years ago, sure. But I've moved on. Don't apologize because if you do, I will blame you and never take responsibility for my sins."

The silence that overtook the car would remain for the rest of the trip. Olivia could have confessed that she had known about her attempts at having children. That she had smugly been laughing at her this morning, dismissing her happiness. She would have liked to think of Mellie in the way she knew her, cold, cruel and jealous of her happiness. It would be nice to laugh it off, think of her as the frigid bitch.

As the car rolled down the icy roads, softly humming, she thought deeply. How different were they really? Two women, strong, well-educated from families of means who had fallen in love late in life? She could have been Mellie. She could have married one of her straight laced ex-boyfriends, played the role, have the children while being the young wife.

Unlike Mellie, she always had the choice. She had a lot of choices in her life. She never _had_ to be married or have children. She always had the freedom to make her own decisions.

Mellie did not. She used to want to switch places, wanting the ability to bare children but as she sat in the silent care, reflecting she suddenly became content. Sometimes, it was good to just accept life as it played out.


	21. For the Love of Money

**Two weeks later…**

The holiday flew by faster than Fitz had anticipated. However that came with having a lot of fun. For the first time, in a long time he had actually relaxed. It had been surreal at times to be under the same roof so many people, especially being under the same roof with Mellie and Olivia without anyone's head melting off, but it worked.

The conversation he had with Olivia in regards to children was something that had been weighing heavily on him. She looked so hurt and guilty, yet she had confessed her desire to have children was rooted in the notion that she thought _he _wanted children. He used to think so, that a home filled with children with Olivia would be heaven, but lately, he was not interested. He had told her as much.

He liked the idea of their carefree lives, filled with travel. Though in all his reflection, something more pressing had begun to weigh on him. He was not young, neither was Olivia. How long could they continue to play house? It was beginning to become a little bothersome really, referring to Olivia as his partner, lover, and girlfriend. The next step would be necessary. He had begun to look at rings, elegant rings that were simple, yet unique however in talking to his mother he knew just the right ring.

_Oh honey, you should have just asked me. Your nana's ring would be perfect for Olivia._

_Really? You have that? I thought it was off limits?_

_Oh, for heavens dear, no. I just never wanted that frigid bitch cavorting around in a family heirloom that valuable. And you know she would have never given it back after the divorce._

Fitz smiled at the thought. He remembered that ring. It brought back memories of holidays and laughs. He loved his Nana. Nana Grant had been a warm, soft woman, lively. He knew that ring would be kept in special a deposit box. It would just be easier to buy a new one rather than wrangling with the ancient keepers of the family trust.

He was so deep in thought, mindlessly doing his regular combos on his punching bag that he had not seen Olivia walk into the gym. She looked beautiful in her work clothes. She clearly had just gotten in from work.

"Hey!" Olivia said loudly, her voice bouncing off the walls.

Fitz smiled as he took a seat and caught his breath, removing his boxing gloves.

"Hey, how's it going?"

She smiled, tossing him a water bottle. "Good, don't you think it's a bit late to be working out?"

He caught the water bottle, wiping his sweaty forehead on his damp tee-shirt. He rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my day went?" He flirted as she took off her crème blazer, taking a seat on the weight lifting equipment across from him.

She giggled, shaking her head. "I know how your day went. Meetings, phone calls, interview for _Meet the Press_ about the book. By the way, started the book on my lunch break. Well done Mr. President.

"Thanks. So does that mean I get a kiss for my hard work? An 800 page memoir is no easy feat."

He winked. She nodded knowingly. "Down boy, you're all sweaty and I'm wearing Marc Jacobs. When you take a shower, then I'll think about it. Hell, I might even join you."

"Fine, be that way. How was your day?" He asked earnestly as she got up and placed a soft kiss on his wet forehead.

When he looked up at her face, he could see something in her eyes. There was a shadow of a smile in her face, but her eyes betrayed a sense of confusion.

"Umm…I got something at work. An attorney from _Keller Zabel_?" Olivia said unsure, crossing her arms. Fitz's heart jumped. He knew that law firm. It was an old Park Avenue firm that had for generations handled his family's legal problems. Almost all Grants in his family had at some time been in old Zabel's office. When his father died, the will reading had been done at the firm's Beverly Hills office.

Though his curiosity was short lived when Olivia reached into her purse, pulling out what appeared to be a thick folder, with the familiar letter head. She handed it to him with a cocked eyebrow with a rather bizarre expression on her face. He could not tell how she was feeling, for the first time in a long time.

"Really Fitz? Really, you know I had always imagined a trip to Paris, maybe by the fire at the ranch, but I had never imagined I would be getting my wedding proposal in the form of a prenuptial agreement delivered by a pimply intern _flown out _for the sole purpose-"

"Livy. Look, I'm-"He sighed defeated. He should have remembered. Of course. His mother knew of his plans to propose. Of course she would call the office thinking she was doing him a favor. Now the cat was out of the bag.

"Livy what? Where you so busy being Mr. Jet set that you didn't have time to propose to me properly?" She asked sarcastically, blinking slowly.

This was uncomfortable enough as it is. This was not the kind of thing he enjoyed talking about, let alone had even been raised to talk about. It was one of the necessary evils. He was a Grant. Not just an ex-President or an ex-Governor.

The Grants were a wealthy, old money family of closed doors, trusts and lived by the old fashioned rule that one did not explicitly talk about their wealthy. Mellie had come from the same world, so when they had married years ago, it had been one of those things that they had not discussed. While Olivia had grown up of means and power, her world had been a different one. Political power and elitism was very different from the old guard money of the Astor's, the Vanderbilt's and the Grants.

"This is awkward. Look, I'm sorry. This was not how it was supposed to be. If it makes you feel any better you don't have to sign it." Fitz said embarrassed. Olivia rolled her eyes sighing.

"Fitz, I don't have a problem signing this. Believe me, I don't. What I have a problem with his the look on your face." She said softly, sitting back down, taking the thick envelop from him.

Fitz was bewildered. _What was she talking about? _

"Huh?"

"That, there. That look right there." She said, pointing at him. He did not understand what this was supposed to be about.

"What look?" He asked frustrated as she began flipping through the thick document, smirking sardonically. He did not find anything funny about this.

"The look of embarrassment that I've seen a million times anytime I have spoken to men like you."

"Men like me? Since when am I 'men like you?'"

"Fitz, how did you buy this house?" She asked in a lawyer's mean, her eyes flashing in a mocking way. His face was reddening as he squirmed. He suddenly had a feeling of what she was getting at and he did not feel like this was an appropriate conversation.

"What?" He was incredulous. He could not believe this. He walked over to the towel rack across the room, but he could hear Olivia hot on his heels, her own clacking furiously as she followed him.

"Fitz, I'm going to ask you again-"

"Fine! I paid for it with a check okay! Is that what you want to hear?" He answered whipping around and staring her in the face. He hated the mocking sneer she was wearing, shaking her head knowingly as if she was a cat stumbling on a mouse.

"Exactly my point, men like you. Men who are-"

"Liv, don't you say it!" He said, but she started laughing. "What is so funny?"

Her laughing was loud, rolling from the gut. At some point, she was laughing so hard she began tearing.

"Are you going to talk or you are just going to laugh at me?" He asked lamely. At his words, she seemed to calm down.

"You mean to tell me that you are one of those guys? Really Fitz? Really?"

"What guys?"

"Those guys. The Roman Numeral guys?" Fitz rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm not exactly comfortable broadcasting to the world that I'm you know…" He stumbled around; looking for the word as he wiped his face with the towel, avoid his gaze.

"What? Rich, loaded, swimming in money. I know that. I read _Forbes _like everyone else and besides, we've joked about it a million times."

He took a deep breath. He needed her to understand how uncomfortable this was for him. This was not a game.

"Livy, we joke about it. We don't discuss it." He said pointedly. It was true they had their fair share of "born with a silver spoon" jokes that they told over the years, but money was the third rail.

"Fitz, this is stupid. We've known each other for years, we love each other, we live together, we just spent Thanksgiving together for both our families, for god sake, I just scheduled your colonoscopy appointment because your too embarrassed to have your assistant do it and you've seen me change my tampon on numerous occasions but we can't talk about your finances without you looking like you're going to be sick?"

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed Olivia's soliloquy. It was hard for him. All his life, being taught to never show off, give back to those less fortunate. He never had to talk about it and now here he was, struggling to explain to his girlfriend why his family attorney had sent her a prenuptial agreement.

"I wasn't raised to talk about…being fortunate. I just wasn't. It's tradition. We don't do that sort of thing. You grew up with means. You understand? Don't you?" He asked innocently.

"My father was a Senator and an attorney but his ancestors weren't. He was the grandson of sharecroppers. He taught me that I was privileged. That I should acknowledge my fortune because a lot of people were not as lucky. I wasn't brought up with legally binding documents that put a price on how many children I supposed to have." She said gently.

He nodded. He knew what she meant. "I get it, but finances are so intimate."

Olivia smiled. "Sure, but so are we. And if we are going to be married, we need to talk about this.

* * *

_  
Brandon Goodling was an old school sort of man. Sharp, very well connected and very successful in the legal world, he had been partner of Keller Zabel for decades. He had been known as the "One percent whisperer" for his handling of high profile divorces and his prenuptial agreements that were iron clad. Sitting next to him was Mick Egan and Richard Stout, Fitz's most trusted accountants.

He had to get this out of the way as soon as he could. So why not use the trip to comfort Olivia's unease with his secrecy about his finances?

"Okay, so we've gone through all the property, do you want to add her to the deed on the Scottish property?" Fitz asked matter of actly. He tried to gage Olivia's feelings on the matter.

She had been sitting upright, quietly for hours as his attorney and accountants poured over countless accounts, CD's, the trust fund, the jet, all of it. It was probably overwhelming for her but she did not show it. She seemed to close attention to every single detail to every word, speaking rarely, allowing Fitz and the other men to comb through the legal and financial minutia.

Richard Stout looked stunned. "Mr. President, with all due respect she's not a Grant-"

"She will be." Fitz said sternly. He knew what they were getting at and he was not interested in debating it. He knew the rules. Grant properties were only limited to those born of the name, not married into it. Made that way so after the death of whoever inherited the properties, they would be a pure Grant. Unfortunately for his parents, he was an only child and his children would not be ready to bare such responsibilities for years to come. They were still teenagers.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. The three men exchanged looks of shock. Fitz rolled his eyes, look at Olivia who was staring off in silence.

"Gentlemen, give us the room." He said authoritatively. He sighed deeply as they cleared out the room.

"Wow. I didn't know I was marrying royalty." Olivia said sarcastically, running her hand through her thick dark waves frustrated. She had a bemused look on her face but there was iciness to her tone.

"Liv, I told you, finances are intimate. You knew-"

"I knew you were set up nice, what I didn't know was you were worth 400 million dollars?" She asked staring at him shocked. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"Why does the dollar amount matter? It's not like it is all cash. A lot of it is investments, stocks I have a stake in Google-"

"You have a stake in Google?" She asked incredulous, hopping up. "Seriously Fitz?"

"Will you keep your voice down?" He pleaded. He was taken aback. Olivia had been around money, power for most of her life. Her clients were often in very similar financial situations. Why was she behaving this way?

"No! This is insane. Do you realize what we are, where we are? You were just pleading with your accountant to put my name on the deed of a Scottish fucking castle that has been in your family for nearly 200 years. It's strange that I know more about my clients than I do about you! The fact that if I cashed out my whole life, it would only cover barely a tenth of a tenth of your fortune!"

He shook his head surprised by this. "Olivia you've always known about this, my life. I may have not gone through spreadsheets about it like now but my family is well known. You should know-"

"Look, I'm not upset okay. I'm just taking it all in. I'm used to being independent, and my own woman. I'm not used to being one of those women. The kind that does this. I'm used to being the guys on the other side of the door. It's just taking me sometime-"

But before Olivia could finish speaking, Mick Egan stuck his head back in the room.

"Mr. President, Ms. Pope, with all due respect, we don't have all day. We still have to go through the IRA account. And that might take a while."

Olivia shot Fitz a pointed look. "I need a drink. Seriously, I have signatures and trusts coming out of my ass at this point."


	22. Playing Hardball

Olivia was not entirely sure when she had worked her way through half a bottle of tequila. What she knew was she was drunk, irritated beyond all rationale thought and could smell the wafting fragrance of popcorn being made in the kitchen.

_Fitz played dirty…_She thought annoyed. She had locked herself in the den for about an hour after the "guard" had left. She could not take it anymore. It was too overwhelming. According to what she could remember in her intoxicated state, she would be inheriting a fifth of Fitz's fortune when he died, the other portions going to Karen and Gerry. How quaint.

She needed to process, digest properly, for the first time since his inauguration come to terms with the fact that regardless of whatever happened, term limits, this beautiful home where they escaped the problems of the world, her "boyfriend" was not just Fitz, not just the guy who liked to massage her feet at the end of a long day. He was Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. He was one of the most powerful men in the world and he was apparently richer than his _Forbes _profile…by a long shot.

Olivia would pace the room, but she was too drunk to even get up. She was too drunk to pretend not to care. It was strange, how normal they, he _pretended_ to be. How she could go out into the real world, work, shop, have dinner with friends, yet be smacked constantly with the absurdities of her life with Fitz. Like the press, the money, the editorials in the newspapers. Abby's words rang in her ears…

_Wow, I need to screw married Presidents more often…_

Would marriage make it better? Would marriage make them more 'normal'? How would they even plan their wedding without the details being leaked to the press? Would it be big? Would they have to invite the Dali Lama, the Queen…the Pope and any of the other illustrious beings Fitz had on speed dial? Sure, her own family was one of prominence, but her list would be cousins, her parents, her associates, friends that she had met as a child and through her work (the ones that were alive, not in prison). Fitz would likely invite the head of the International Monetary Fund; after all, they had gone to prep school together.

Olivia sloppily reached for the bottle of Jose Cuervo to pour another shot when she heard the clicking of the door. She sighed. Of course he had the key. She forgot.

"Go away." She slurred, but before she could turn around, she heard footsteps. The smell of popcorn was wafting so heavenly, along with sexy smell of Molton Brown body wash.

"Too late." Fitz said walking around the couch and sitting down next to her, planting the large bowl of popcorn down.

Olivia looked at him, with a cocked eye brow. Even in the haze of alcohol, frustration and anger, she could not deny he looked good. Damn good. He just got out the shower as evidence by his wet curls and to add insult to injury, he was wearing that NAVY shirt…

"Well played Mr. President." She shot darkly.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, I know what you're doing and it's not _hic-_going to work." Olivia said lamely as she hiccupped, trying to keep up her façade of righteous indignation.

He smirked at her scooting closer to her on the couch, placing his feet up on the coffee table. He was really turning on the charm.

"Doing what?" He asked playfully, his eyes dancing in the dimly lit room.

"Oh _hic_, you know the old Grant charm. I'm not going to pretend to not be upset about this because you look…." She trailed off eyeing him once more. She wished she had the will power. At some point in the night she knew she would succumb to whatever it was the _je ne sais quoi_ that was Fitzgerald Grant.

"Livy, I'm not trying to sleep with you. There's plenty of time for that a later day. I'm trying to understand why my girlfriend locked herself in our den for an hour?" He asked softly.

Olivia sighed deeply, lying on the couch, putting her feet Fitz's thighs. Her mind was too overcome with tequila for her to even pretend to not be irritated beyond all rationale.

"Let's see, other than me coming to terms with my new found wealth, and my current state of intoxication, and oh, yeah, suddenly realizing that I'm not even in your league, even though I've tricked myself into thinking we are equals in every sense, when the reality is my boyfriend is an ex-president, who is likely to die and leave me a castle and a jet. Other than that, no, no reason to lock myself in the den. Oh look, my hiccups went away."

She said this all absentmindedly. It was nice being free of the barriers of sobriety. Nice that the push-pull of their relationship no longer existed. Everything was on the table. There would be not screaming matches or crying fits like the old days. Just talk.

He softly began rubbing her feet, his strong hands kneading her heels. It felt so good. So normal…

"Livy, I know today was a lot, but that doesn't change anything. It doesn't change us. It didn't matter before you got that stupid…thing. It does not matter now." He said soothingly. Olivia snorted.

"The fact that you called the prenuptial agreement a 'thing'" is duly noted." She joked, sitting up and reaching for the bowl of popcorn.

He smiled at her. "Hey, I'm still trying to get used to all of it myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That wasn't easy for me. Father…my dad, always stressed money and emotions were not topics of discussion. So they never were at least not with me anyway. He also stressed that infidelity was okay, threesomes were even better and politics was a noble profession. Listening to my father has never been a good idea."

Olivia laughed a little louder than expected. "Really? Because I always thought threesomes were fabulous." She wiggled her eyebrows at Fitz who shook his head.

"I'm going to let that go because you're drunk." He said softly, now taking Olivia's left foot and massaging it much to her delight. This was nice. She shoved a large fistful of popcorn in her mouth, enjoying that Fitz remembered not to put too much butter on it.

"You know, we could be drunk together." Olivia said as suggestively as she could with a mouthful.

Fitz gave her a bemused look. "Really? I thought you were on to me, thought you 'knew what I was doing'?"

Olivia sighed. "Yeah, but we haven't had sex in I can't remember when."

"We had sex this morning in the shower. You can't remember because you're drunk." Fitz said smartly. Olivia rolled her eyes, sitting up and placing the bowl back on the table.

"Touché but seriously, I'm sorry about the money freak out. I just don't want anything coming in between us. I freaked out because I don't want any more secrets between us. Secrets were bad for us in the past. Like infertility-"

"Amanda Tanner."

"Mellie's campaign, Mellie and Peter trying to get pregnant, Mellie knowing about us, our whole affair-"

"Okay! I got the point!" Fitz said laughing, playfully squeezing Olivia's calf.

There was a comfortable silence that fell over them. Olivia crawled over to Fitz, cuddling into him as he wrapped his arms around her. She felt at ease tucked into him, her head resting under his chin.

"Mm. How did we get to the point where we could joke about how fucked up we are?" Olivia slurred quietly. She could feel Fitz laughing due to the vibrations of his broad chest.

"Well, your drunk-"

"Point that out one more time and that baritone of yours will suddenly become a little more high-pitched." She said sarcastically.

"Alright, alright so violent, but getting back to us being fucked up, we aren't we are just…different. We always have been."

Olivia smiled. This was true. In a lot of ways, their whole relationship had been an exercise in the absurd.

"When you love someone, I guess you overlook the small stuff. Speaking of which, remind me to not kill my mother the next time she's in town?" Fitz said placing a kiss on Olivia's forehead. She ran an errant hand up and down his thigh.

"Sure. Though as much I love her, not sure I can get over her ruining the whole romantic proposal thing." Her hand was slowly inching its way toward the drawstring of Fitz's pajamas. But before she could get to the promise land, he grabbed her hand.

"No. We are not having sex."

"Boo, you're no fun. How about you just give me a kiss?" Olivia said looking up at him, pouting. He rolled his eyes.

"Livy, I know what kind of 'kiss' you are talking about. Your drunk and we've both had a long day."

"Exactly. All the reasons we should have sex." She reasoned. She was half joking. All this massaging and cuddling had oddly enough turned her on. Fighting with him was always fun. And the sex afterwards was even better. Alcohol never hurt anyone's judgment.

For a moment he looked like he might take her on her offer. But he sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"No. Remember, sex is not always the answer to our problems. You told me that, in California remember?" He said earnestly, stroking her cheek.

She rolled her eyes frustrated. He always had to come to his senses at the worst times.

"Yeah but when I said that, we had just finished having sex. Please? Besides you know how turned on I am by men who have big…trust funds." She joked sexily straddling him. She ground her hips into him which triggered just the response she needed. His eyes fluttered, his lips parted and he was about has hard as a rock.

"Oh, so you're sleeping with me because I'm…of means." He said huskily, running his hands up and down her sides. The sensation was mind numbing, her skin was bubbling with kinetic chaos. She closed in on him, putting her lips to his ears. She slowly began kissing, nibbling so slightly.

"Fuck Liv." He moaned, standing up but she wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her legs around his waist, barring him from any sudden movements.

"What are you doing?" He laughed as he cupped her rear. She smirked.

"Getting what I want."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You, me, the couch, all night working out our problems the best way we know how. Did you really think you could stumble across me drunk, irritated with popcorn and think I wouldn't be getting any?"

He shook his head as she through her head back with laughter. "You make a good point. The answer is still no. But how about we make a wager?" He said seductively.

"Mm…you know I love a good wager, it's my life's work."

"You me, Barcelona next week."

At the suggestion, Olivia slide out of his arms. Was he nuts? She had work? He had engagements that he needed to attend. This was absurd, crazy…and yet, so tempting.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking maybe it was their crazy life, but Barcelona suddenly seemed tempting because it was necessary. She needed crazy. After all, crazy was normal for them.

"Why Barcelona?"

"Well, it is an excuse to have you speak Spanish, and you know how much I love that. And besides, we've had a lot of good times in Spain." He winked.

The sudden thoughts of tulips made her smile. She also had a sneaking suspicion that her romantic proposal just might happen after all.


	23. Sex, Spain and Invasion of Privacy

_Fitzgerald Grant to the press had always been an enigma. Sure, he was a good president, but he had not exactly been a great President in the legendary FDR-Lincoln-Jefferson sort of way. He would go into the "competent" bin like Bill Clinton and Dwight Eisenhower for historians. He had a solid, stellar foreign policy record, a half-decent domestic party. Unfortunately his moderate politics had angered a lot of members of his party; a party headed more off the rightwing cliff who did not take well to his bipartisan streak, leaving a lot of his fellow Republicans cool anointment him to political sainthood. _

_So if with a political party and a press reluctant to make him their hero, why were his approval ratings upon leaving the White House nearly three years out remain so high? It was easy. He had "it". _

_He was the boy wonder, the "Teflon Don" as the papers had pejoratively dubbed him years ago after the accusations of Mellie Grant's alleged affair during the New Hampshire primaries and the rumors surrounding his own affairs never seemed to stick. _

_Under the glossy Kennedy-esque movie star looks, the soaring rhetoric and the sonorous voice always seemed to a wise and devilish politico being. Someone always one step ahead of the press, always besting the media prognosticators waited for the day he would suffer at the hands of the American people for the innuendo that surrounded him about his private life. _

_He had done the typical ex-President number, forming the global charity, traveling, giving speeches, fundraising for up and coming Republican candidates. He was a statesman, beloved and revered by the people, sought after to write policy papers and called upon by the Langston administration to clean up the foreign policy messes of the Middle East. _

_So in that regard, he was perfect. His private life had been less simplistic. _

_No one in the press was surprised by the divorce. No one in the press was surprised by wife going into politics. Anyone in the Washington-beltway circle could see it coming. She was smart, accomplished and well liked. _

_What took the press aback was Olivia Pope. Why her? _

_For starters, the decision to be publically seen with a woman nearly 10 years his junior was stunning to the chattering class. They talked about it insistently in their offices, Sunday morning talk show greenrooms and over dinner._

_Did you see them? At Shelly's?_

_I know, all over each other, what is that? _

_For some of the men, it was heartburn. Olivia Pope was the kind of man any ambitious politician regardless of hue and party wanted by their side. Beautiful, accomplished and most importantly, politically connected due to her legendary father and her civil rights giant of a great grandfather. The wishy washy pretty boy did not deserve her. She was a waste of perfectly good political opportunity._

_For the journalists, she would be not only a great lay (in a town with sagging tits and lumpy asses, she was a rare hottie) but the normally private consultant who's boutique firm that had always been brimming with the rich, powerful and badly behave, she would make for an excellent story. _

_For the women, it was jealously. Anyone who was anyone had come across the annoying little twit in their workings, flaunting around in her Italian labels and sky high stilettos all over D.C and to add insult to injury, she landed the President…fuck her. Who did she think she was?_

_For the old moneyed guard, who loved and knew her parents, she was a star. For the younger working crowd, the reporters, the staffers the younger congresswomen, she was the example of everything wrong with Washington. Just because she could hunt, had a nice ass and a famous last name, did not make it fair she got anything she wanted._

_So when the notion that the pictures of the President and the Fixer would hit the tabloids and were to be a running non-stop on cable news hit, the town that had always been secretly obsessed with the President and the Fixer now had a reason to indulge._

_It was delicious; it was salacious, though not scandalous. It was fun to pretend to be outraged. _

_Well for one thing, the idea of the ex-president rubbing suntan lotion on his lover's topless back while she read a magazine on a yacht was stunning. First of all, the villa that they had borrowed from the Spanish royals (who the Grant was good friends with) was sealed off, security heavy. So the idea that a camera could even breach the air space was amazing. _

_Then there was the picture of Olivia Pope in a slinky nightgown on her balcony on the phone, unaware of the invasion of privacy._

_ The picture of the President, shirtless rock hard abs swimming in the pool was another intriguing one for the sexually frustrated politico wives._

_There was a brief video of the couple, stylishly dining in a private vineyard, feeding each other, whispering in each other's ear. The footage would not be so provocative but the footsy under the table seemed too good to be true. _

_Then the picture of her, clad with designer shopping bags, hidden behind designer sunglasses shopping in the high streets had a whiff of Jet-set European elitism. This was bound to annoy the American electorate who liked their boy wonder, and did not care for him cavorting and fornicating with what looked like a spoiled inside the beltway princess. _

_A lot of the photos would not be interesting, if not for the Public Displays of Affection, the obvious oblivion to the idea of an ex-President and his lover on a very expensive and prolonged vacation. It would be comforting to think of this very good looking couple as merely just two adults who enjoyed each other's company. However the notion that they were sexual, grabby and glamorous ticked off the prying eyes. _

_The contrast in her exotic beauty and his classic handsomeness was annoying because it worked so well. Yet it would sell papers, glue eyes to the screens so why not? _

_How dare they? Be so carefree? Didn't they know the button down world of politics did not allow this? Who did they think they were? Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton? _

_Well, a little adultery would have been nice unfortunately; they would have to settle for sexy photographs. _

_All the major newspapers would be splashing the photos on the front page the next morning. Every newsroom in New York and Washington had rejoiced. Finally after years of covering King Grant and Saint Pope, they could finally behave a little badly by covering tawdry scandal of their two favorite targets like never before._

"Yes…yes! Oh, don't stop, I'm…I'm….ahhhh." Olivia screamed breathlessly as she climaxed. She could not remember ever feeling this good.

The past couple of weeks had been nothing but fantasy. This had been the best vacation she had ever been on. She was free. Free to swim, roam the expansive lands of this romantic and plush country, and enjoy life. No email, no work just her and Fitz, living life the way it should be lived. Under the sun and carefree she was at her happiest moment, the zenith of her glee.

She could not get out of bed if she wanted to. They had become addicted, love junkies constantly ravishing each other and there was no better place to do this than the palatial Spanish villa where their love sounds bounced off the elegant and ancient walls.

"Fuck Liv". Fitz growled as he continued to move inside of her. Under the glorious moonlight, Fitz had become transfixed, exploring Olivia's body so thoroughly, the sensory overload was driving her mad.

Her body shook, her voice was horse and yet she could not stop. He could not stop. Her body craved for more, gushing with sexual hunger.

"Mm…you feel so good." She moaned throwing her head back on the fluffy pillows as Fitz thrust slowly, maneuvering his way into her hilt, finding her source of greatest pleasure.

Her arms were too weak to hold onto his broad shoulders anymore. Her hands were running through her hair to maintain some semblance that she had not died and gone to heaven. That her pleasure was real. Her normally well coifed waves after days of abandoning her rigorous hair routine had returned to its most natural state of puffy coils. Her toes were curling as he leaned in to kissing her soundly. She could feel it coming again…

"Fuck, baby aren't you close?" Olivia asked between kisses as his hands cupped her breasts.

"Do you want me to be?" He moaned in her ear.

"God, no I…we….mm." She was too distracted, lost in his kiss, his touch. Everything he did to her triggered a wild reaction. When he thundered into her, she yelled, when he buried his face in her neck, leaving love bits, she called his name like a prayer. When he ever so softly demanded that she speak Spanish, she could not refuse him.

"Joda a papá, hágame vengo"

"Damn, I love it when you do that, so…sexy." He punctuated every word with a thrust.

"¿Usted lo quiere cuándo soy travieso?

For some reason, this particular phrase send him over the edge. Maybe he was spent, maybe, he had been holding out for too long but he exploded with in her, giving Olivia the kind of mind-numbing pleasure, she never thought to be possible. Her body had turned into an inferno of sexual power that had been thoroughly engulfed in the moment.

For a few minutes, they simply laid there, him still within her coming down from their high. Their fix, their addiction. Like addicts who had just shot up experiencing the euphoria, they reveled in the high.

Olivia was beside herself, a broad smile spreading on her face.

"That was amazing." She whispered softly, as Fitz gently stroked her face, staring into her eyes.

"Yeah…" He whispered back.

This, here and now was the way she wanted life. Just them, the two of them. Locked away with the world with the love of her life. His face was a vision, one half taken over by the velvety dark of their bedroom, the other, shining with sweat in the moonlight. His hair was messy, wild. She could see some streaks of blond, due to all his time in the sun. She loved when that happened. He was so much tanner than usual, the freckles on his face more prominent than normal, making his eyes pop.

She kissed him, heart overwhelmed, her mind mushy with girlish delight. She kissed him because she never wanted to stop, she loved him more than rationale should allow.

* * *

The moon had been so beautiful from their bedroom, big, shiny and white, perfectly carving out its place in the soft clouds. They did not go to sleep that night.

They would take a swim in the large glimmering pool, enjoying one another's company, laughing and having a good time. What they did not know was as they passionately kissed as Fitz was stripping Olivia of her bikini, paparazzi snapped pictures discreetly…

_This would be too good to be true. _


	24. Murphy's Law: Spanish Style

Mercat de Sant Antoni was an ancient market place that had been around since the 19th century. It was one of the many attractions that Fitz and Olivia had visited since being in Barcelona. Olivia had already ventured out on her own to the fashion district of Avinguda Diagonal. Unfortunately, when she had been there, she had spotted a few photographers from afar. She was used to that kind of thing due to her relationship with Fitz.

She also did not want Fitz, who hated the photographers of the tabloid sort getting caught up in a potential landmine of cameras. Which is why they had opted for the much more traditional and more down to earth Mercat de Sant Antoni, which was a bastion of old Spanish culture, entertaining street venders who shamelessly flirted with them.

They had bought books, posters and spices, relishing the ancient market place and all its seductive charms. Their afternoon finally culminated in a delicious lunch of embutidos ibéricos and cold beers in a local restaurant bar.

"Mm…" Fitz moaned as he licked the morsel of food off Olivia's finger. Olivia felt that familiar tingle between her legs as Fitz's tongue slowly grazed her finger. Normally they would never be this openly affectionate in public, but there was something about the culture, the ancient cities and of course Olivia's fluency in Spanish that made them more amorous.

The weather also did not hurt the mood. It did not matter the time of day; the Mediterranean heat of Barcelona was constant.

"You are too much." Olivia said jokingly as Fitz feed her a spicy piece of ham. He smirked at her coyly as his hand traveled up the billowing skirt of her sundress.

"You on the other hand, I can't get enough of. " His eyes were sparkling with the all too familiar mischief. His rough fingers were working their magic, slowly inching up…

"Fitz" Olivia exclaimed through gritted teeth, grabbing his hand before he could have any more fun. He stared at her with a puzzled expression.

"I thought you liked it when I played with your tulip." He said softly, licking his lips. Olivia pulled away, sliding to the other side of the booth and taking a swig of her beer. She needed to cool down before they did something stupid.

"You like playing with my tulip a little too much." As Olivia said this, her gaze fell on young woman reading a magazine, or at least pretending to read. It was a copy of Vanity Fair with Nicole Kidman on the cover, but it was upside down. The young woman stared back at her intently, as though trying to figure out a rather difficult puzzle. There was something uncomforting about being the center of this woman's attention. Not to mention, Olivia remembered that issue and she knew it was a few months old…

"What's caught your eye?" Fitz asked curiously, sliding over to her side of the booth.

Olivia's stomach turned over uncomfortably, and it had nothing to do with the food. She was used to spice.

"That girl, she keeps staring at me." Olivia said shrugging. Fitz laughed, shaking his head.

"Well, Olivia as much as you hate to hear this, your gorgeous. People are going to stare. Don't you remember the guy with the tapas stand?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as if to comfort her but it did not help. Especially considering the fact that the woman's sights seem to shift from her to Fitz. There was something predatory about her gaze.

"Oh great, now she's staring at you." Olivia said absent minded, trying to seem as though she was not staring back. She could see from the corner of her eye Fitz's handsome face smiling at her. He was still wrapped up in their little world of naughty whispers and booze.

Olivia's sixth sense the fixer sense was tingling in overdrive. "Fitz we have to get out of here." She said whispering urgently.

Fitz's smile broadened "Well, Olivia if you wanted it all you had to do is-" But before Olivia could answer Fitz back, the young lady pulled out a cell phone and rapidly whispered into it, finally breaking the gaze.

"What is she doing?" Fitz asked suddenly, snapping out of his haze of contentment. The vein in the side of his neck was suddenly throbbing, his jaw clenched.

She looked up at Fitz who looked back at her. They were public figures. They knew the rules. At first, it had been odd, during her first bouts of fame. In Washington, during her single years, she would occasionally be photographed by the old media establishment papers like the Times and the Post. However, being with Fitz was a whole different ballgame.

"If she's what I think she is, then we might want to head out now…" Fitz whispered, pretending to take a drink from Olivia's beer.

Olivia nodded. "I'll make it look like I'm going to the bathroom. I'll call you and you follow me out. Deal?"

"Deal." Fitz agreed his eyes narrowing as the young woman made her way out of the restaurant, still whispering rapidly on her phone.

Olivia got up, though she tittered slightly on her strappy Marc Jacob heels. Cleary she had one to many beers. Her heart was racing as she hustled her way through the crowded restaurant. This had been a dumb idea. Stupid really. Why did she and Fitz think this time would be any different?

She could hear footsteps behind her. She turned around to see Fitz walking behind her. She sighed deeply content. However as she made her way to the exit, a flash greeted her.

_Es el Presidente y su amante!_ It's the President and his lover!

"Fuck!" Fitz exclaimed as he pulled out his aviators and put them on to avoid the flashes. They were like roaches, the paparazzi multiplying by the second.

"What do we do?" Olivia yelled as Fitz grabbed her arm and jogged along the streets, trying to avoid the screaming press and the onslaught of cameras. They were loud, yelling crass questions at them.

She could not make some of the things they were saying, but she heard something about a yacht and a magazine. This whole entire experience was surreal. Never before had she been bombarded like this. As they ran down the streets, Olivia turned around making out Tom and Hal, Fitz's security detail trying to fend the crowd off, unfortunately there were spectators now joining in on the fun.

It was madness, suffocating as they tried to dodge people, Olivia could feel her heels coming undone, finally culminating in her beloved shoe getting caught in the cobble stone and snapping in half. She tripped clumsily, her knees scrapping, her ankle twisting, shooting a mind numbing amount of pain up her ankle. Before she could even yell help, Fitz swooped her up, caring her fireman style as he tried to work his way through the crowds.

For some odd reason, the chaos, the screaming the cameras resulted in tears forming in Olivia's eyes. This was embarrassing. Their whole trip had gone to shit all because of that stupid little plant and her old magazine.

"Liv, it's going to be okay. I have the spare keys to Tom's car. We just need to make our way through. "Fitz whispered to her as the crowds followed them. The spectators were yelling, the flashes were going off.

All Olivia could do was cling to Fitz and hope for the best.

* * *

They sped away in a vintage Aston Martin, Tom's decoy car while they were in Spain. It normally helped to not have the security detail in big black cars, dressed in suits. This typically would attract attention.

_We managed to do that all by ourselves. _Olivia thought frustrated. They had been driving for hours, away from the crowded market place on back road paths, overlooking oceans and mountains. They had finally reached a quiet and clean in a little outside Barcelona, overlooking the beach. Fitz had checked them into the room, cleaning Olivia's scars up and bandaging her sprained ankle.

It was even better than that of the villa. However she had been too tired from the drive to take in nature's wonder. She had been curled up in a ball asleep for the past few hours, wrapped in a fluffy robe that the inn keeper had allowed her to borrow. She yawned as she awoke.

"We can't go back to the villa yet. I just got off the phone with Hal, he says the press is parked outside, waiting. Apparently they penetrated the perimeter." Fitz said, sighing defeated. Olivia nodded quietly. The view from the balcony was beautiful, stunning really.

Fitz sat beside her, gently stroking her hair. She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness brought on by the sun setting. She had never experienced that sort of thing before. The chasing, the chaos would take some time getting used to.

"Hey." Fitz said gently, looking lovingly at her. "Why are you so quiet. I don't like you quiet."

Olivia tried to smile, but she could not. It seemed selfish and stupid, but she felt embarrassed by the whole paparazzi affair.

"Sorry, it's just-"

"Crazy?"

Olivia nodded her head as Fitz climbed into the bed with her wrapping himself around her. For the first time since he had picked her up off the ground in the market, she felt safe. Her walls, her defensive walls that came up when she panicked were beginning to break down once more.

There was a silence, a comfortable silence that fell over them, the sounds of the ocean providing the soundtrack.

"Well, this puts the damper in our vacation." Olivia said drolly, trying to make light of the situation. She needed to in order to diffuse the knot of trepidation that had formed in stomach.

She could feel Fitz smiling against her neck. "I know think about what a shame it is that I won't get to see you skinny dipping every morning."

She giggled, feeling better. "God, I sprain my ankle, our hideout is taken over by the press, and all you can think about is me being naked in the pool?"

"I'm a man, Livy. I'm a man turned on by an incredible woman."

Olivia gingerly rolled over trying not to apply any pressure to her sprained ankle or scrapped knees. Her heart was warm. The whole day in a nutshell was entirely ridiculous.

"I like what you did there, turning your line around, that was good." She bantered back, wiggling her eyebrows.

He looked tired for the first time since they had come to Spain. His hair was on end, his eyes were red with lack of sleep although there was a playful grin playing on his lips;.

"Well, if you like that line so much, you will like this one even better. Marry me."

The smile disappeared from Olivia's face. Her brain ceased to process thought. The proverbial record player had been scratched to a screeching halt.

"Wha-What?" She asked shocked as Fit sat up, looking down on her.

This was it. This was the moment she had fantasied so many times about. She had imagined this moment over the years. It was a testament to how bizarre they truly were.

A vacation with her boyfriend, who happened to be an ex-President had melted into a paparazzi induced mess and here they were in the middle of nowhere and he was proposing. Oddly enough, this was the most romantic day of her life.

"I planned to propose later tonight over dinner, but seeing that things have turned, I realized something. I've been through so much with you. I've been through so many good times and bad. And at every step of the way, I've seen you love me unconditionally despite it all. With all the craziness in my life, you would think you would have walked out, you deserve to get with a normal, stable guy with a nine to five. Yet you are still here. Partially because sprained your ankle-"

Olivia laughed as the tears came streaming down her eyes. A wave of overwhelming love and warmth washed over her tired body.

"…but in the end, you always manage to still be here. So Olivia Pope, I'm asking you what I've been dying to ask you for years. Will you marry me?"

She blinked, her mouth forming the words yes so instinctively, she never remembered saying 'Yes'.

They kissed softly, gently for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally broke apart, Olivia looked at Fitz expectantly…

"Where is it?" She asked curious. He nodded, understanding what she was referring to.

"Good question. If you are referring to the ring, I had planned on giving it to you in the villa-"

"Over dinner, right." Olivia finished, looking at him, in anticipation. She wanted her ring. Now. However the trepidation in his voice told her he did not have it on him.

"But, don't have it…because I left it-"

"Fitz!" Olivia smacked his arm playfully. Leave it to him to completely botch the proposal. Again.

"Ouch, what? I did not see today going the way it did."

"Then why propose?"

"Well, here we are in this romantic inn-"

"Are you serious!"

"You are entirely missing the point." He laughed. Olivia rolled her eyes, staring at the ceiling. It was the story of her life.

"Great so I'm engaged with no ring. This is so not the way I imagined it. What am I saying, I'm in a beautiful country, alive, healthy with the man I love. It could be worse. I could be photographed naked by the press or have my hands chopped off or something." Olivia sassed.

Unfortunately, another sigh emitted from Fitz. "Funny you should mention that-"

"Fitz, don't tell me-"

He reached into the side drawer, turning on the lamp and digging through a drawer. Olivia sat up when Fitz tossed a tabloid magazine on her lap.

There they were, on the yacht. She was topless, in her Hermes bikini bottoms and hoop earring sunbathing as Fitz rubbed suntan lotion on her back. She was reading a magazine…

"Remind me to shoot both you and myself when we get back to the States." Olivia moaned frustrated, covering up her face embarrassed.


	25. Never Let a Crisis go to Waste

"We are on in five!" A production assistant yelled as Fitz sat down. After decades of being interviewed, tapped and photographed, he never got used to this sense of public notoriety. His interview today was a much staged and very calculated one. It was with a major network, not unlike the interviews he had done in the past.

When he was President, his interviews were typically in the White House, from the Blue Room or the Oval Office. His Communication team always wanted him to emphasis the "power and majesty of the office." Or at least that was what Olivia used to say when she worked in the White House (the strategy still held after she left). Even as a presidential candidate, his interviews were always incredibly formal, emphasizing his good looking and "perfect", young family. He would be in a suit, Mellie in a prissy outfit and they would do the old song and dance. Fake, fake, smile, fake and a little more smile. Olivia had taught them well.

However, this interview would be slightly different. He had gone with the venerable old school reporter and the major broadcasting network, all the things that an ex-President does. His people had negotiated extensively, with Olivia's help on the terms of the interview but he knew they would be asked in some capacity. It was a four hour network all access pass into his life, it had to come up.

So here he was, casually dressed in a fleece jacket, jeans and snow boots as the hot production lights shown on him. The senior reporter, getting the memo and trading her haute couture clothing for casual clothing more apropos to the rustic scenery of Vermont.

"So Mr. President, are you ready?" She asked him, her face breaking into a warm smile.

He sighed deeply. "About as ready as I'm going to be."

"Three, two….and action!"

_The network logo flashed across the screen. The voice over intoned, letting the audience knows this was serious business. _

_The images of Fitzgerald Grant, vigorous, handsome and Presidential flashes across the screen in rapid succession. Everything from him playing football with his father as a lanky teenager to his wedding to Mellie Grant, to his swearing into office. _

"_He has been in the spotlight since he was a child. The scion of one of the nation's most powerful family's, he ascended to the heights of power at a light speed rate." _

_(Images of him signing bills, giving speeches, presidential campaigning)_

_His Presidency, a successful one, was marred in rumor…._

_(Overtone of news reports about Amanda Tanner, accusations, scandal)._

_His post-Presidency, a beacon for philanthropy and charity. (Pictures of him with African orphans, helping build for Habitat for humanity)._

_He is one of the world's most captivating individuals, a constant force in political life. Yet, for the first time tonight, we explore the man behind the power. A one on one no holds bar interview on his life, his work and the scandal surrounding his personal life. _

_Images of Fitzgerald Grant walking through the snow with the reporter, hiking and sitting by the fire place with Olivia Pope, who is pretty, dressed in a cozy off the shoulder sweater, body hugging jeans and riding boots flash across the screen._

_Network logo flashes….then commercial break._

_The first part of the interview, strategically taking place in his library, a warm fire crackling in the background. The topics, his childhood, growing up with pressure to excel._

_**You write in your autobiography Mr. President and I quote "My father was a bit like a rain cloud. Dark, hovering and rather inconvenient yet he always delivered the salvation of nurture and care." Mr. President, there has been a lot made about your relationship with your father, books written, television movies produced-**_

_The handsome ex-President laughs warmly, characteristically rubbing his fingers along his lips as his grey eyes flashed playfully._

_**You find this funny? Why?**_

_The __**r**__eporter's tone is warm, friendly._

_**I've never shied away from addressing my issues with my father. I loved him, I respected him but he was an ambitious man. He wanted the best for me. Did we have our disagreements, absolutely, what father and son do not? This notion that we had this Philip II of Macedon-Alexander the Great relationship of dysfunction is ridiculous. **_

_**Was he hard on you? **_

_**Of course, he wanted me to be the best and make my family proud.**_

_The reporter nods knowingly. __**Did the best mean becoming President?**_

_Fitzgerald Grant understood his appeal. He knew when to manipulate his body, face into charming the American people out of their pants. _

_He coyly answers, winking. __**One could argue. **_

_The second part of the interview takes them outdoors. He loves the outdoors, talks about writing sessions at Camp David that gave him clarity. Images of him riding his horses, swimming flash across the screen. He talks longingly about childhoods in the Cape Cod._

_**You are not a young man. **__The reporter observes._

_**Wow, you've hurt my feelings Barbara. **__The reporter laughs, blushing._

_**And yet, you are constantly seen hiking, snowboarding, horseback riding and doing rather dangerous things. Do you fear that you will injure yourself? **_

_**Not really. I like to take risk. I find that if you live your life scared of a few bruises and scratches, you are not living for much.**_

_The interview then moves to the ex-President chopping wood as the older reporter watches. _

_**Wow, you are quite the outdoorsman. I guess you are not afraid of a little risk. **_

_**No, no I am not. I was not raised that way. **__He laughs as he wipes his brow. _

_The interview moves back inside, the ex-President less forthcoming, less coy about his marriage to Mellie Grant. _

_**Earl Woodson, the noted Presidential biographer wrote of your marriage 'The Grant marriage was a political one at its finest. Two ambitious pols who loved politics more than each other', how much truth is there to that?'**_

_The ex-President sighs, shaking his head. __**Marriages are difficult, we hurt one another. I'm not interest in having my marriage psychoanalyzed by a liberal partisan with a hidden agenda. We have two beautiful children, a lot of wonderful memories-**_

_**Do you get along?**_

_**Of course we do.**_

_**Do you get along well?**_

_**Barbara, now you're trying to get me into trouble. **__They laugh. Commercial break._

_(A segment on the Grant marriage, his ex-wife's run for the Senate, his endorsement). _

_It was the picture seen round the world, a sunbathing President and his lover luxuriating on a yacht, she topless as he caresses her with sunscreen. It has been called everything from Yacht-gate, but it all started with a private trip to Spain… flashes of the couple shopping, being chased by the paparazzi. Tabloid headlines. David Letterman and Jay Leno doing jokes. _

_**Mr. President, how do you explain what happened a few weeks ago in Spain? **_

_He sighs deeply, profoundly. His mind churning. __**I do not think I need to really. **_

_**You don't?**_

_**No. I did nothing illegal, or malicious-**_

_**You are a well-known person. An ex-president of immense standing. At some point, did you not stop and think 'Maybe we should not sunbathe half naked with my girlfriend'.**_

_**Barbara have you been to Spain at all? **__He charms his way out of that one. Smooth... _

_**So you do not regret what you did? **_

_**No. I was not doing anything usual. When in Rome.**_

_**How did your children take this?**_

_**They thought it was ridiculous that people were making such a big deal. They are adults. My parents back in the 70s used to sunbathe naked in Prague, France you name it. I don't recall editorials being written about it. **_

_Another commercial break._

_The voice intones. (When purchases Fitzgerald Grant's biography, in light of recent events, they will turn to the index, look under the P's and search for one name. Olivia Pope)_

_Flashes of the woman appear. Beautiful, composed well dressed._

_She's the Washington fixer that everyone cannot stop talking about. Gorgeous, mysterious, she has often shied away from interviews. Until now. For the first time, the powerhouse sits down with her very Presidential partner._

_Pictures of the two of them walking the street hand in hand and getting off planes. A segment on their work on the Grant campaigns. _

_Olivia Pope walks into the room, places a kiss on her lover's lips and joins the interview. _

_**Welcome.**_

_**Thanks for having me. **_

_**You never do these.**_

_**No I don't. **_

_**So, I guess we start with the obvious. When did you two start seeing each other? **_

_The couple shares a playful look. _

_**Yesterday. **__The ex-President jokes. _

_The couple is warm, playful and flirtatious. Exchanging looks. They are engaging, he mocks her horseback riding skills and love for popcorn, and she pokes fun at his love for record players. They are a breath of fresh air from the stiff days of Mellie and Fitzgerald. _

_**I've noticed you are wearing a ring. Yes. It's a rather large one. Is marriage in the future?**_

_Again, they exchange a look. One of their many secret looks. Pope shrugs._

_**If it happens, we will let you know. **_


	26. All Wrongs, Never Righted

Fitz checked his watch and sighed. He was late and hated being late, especially when it came to Mellie. After all these years, two kids, divorce, lies, affairs, and years of loathing her with every inch of his being, the had finally come to this moment.

Sure, they had spent the holidays together with Olivia, the kids, his parents, Olivia's parents. However their personal reactions had been limited. A part of him liked the place they were in now; friendly and cordial. There was an air of formality to them that had taken the place of the hatred and scorn.

_And the hatred might get even stronger tonight._

When Fitz stepped out the car, there were dozens of photographers waiting, yelling "Mr. President!" He smiled as he briskly made his way out of the bristling Washington cold and into the warm restaurant. His security detail was light tonight. Just two agents.

After all this time, he still felt a bit uneasy with agents. Now, with the enormous interest in his changing relationship status with Olivia, the press that followed him and become more persistent. Hence the rationale for him in having dinner with Mellie tonight.

* * *

1789 Restaurant was a preeminent restaurant in Washington D.C. He had many dinners, lunches and dates in this restaurant. In fact, this was the place he and a young Millicent had met for drinks years ago. When she was an aide to the White House. She was young, ambitious and smart. Sharp as a whip and a future as far as the eye could see.

He could see the prim girl in her pearls, talking a mile a minute in her Bostonian accent about how great Nixon was, all the while drinking her gin.

They had known each other since childhood, been in the same circles. To him, she was always annoying, whiny with a voice like nails on a blackboard. However, that night, she became his friend. A friend he would care about and worry about. A friend who he thought he could confide in. But with every passing year, every political fundraiser, every child and every promotion, raise and career opportunity his friend disappeared.

His friend had been replaced with a cold, cruel woman. A woman who mocked his idealism, his "smushy Nelson Rockefeller politics", derisively called him names and cheated on him.

As he made his way with the guide of the maître d' into the historical Middleburg Room, as he caught a glimpse of U.S Senator Millicent Valmont sipping gin, a part of him hoped a glimpse of that young White House aide would show herself once more.

Fitz would have chosen the F. Scott room. The dark paneling and sexy art deco had always provided great atmospherics whenever he wanted to take Olivia out on the town. That was theirs. Dancing, drinks, a private dinner in the F. Scott and the ballet.

The Middleburg Room seemed more apropos for this occasion. It was formal and very old Virginia. Stuffy almost if he were in his grandmother's old country home.

"What are you drinking?" Mellie asked politely, observing the menu.

Fitz smirked. "Cabernet Sauvignon sounds good."

Mellie's bright blue eyes widened with shock. "Since when do you drink wine? You are a scotch person Fitzgerald. Wine, a full bodied one at that, interesting?"

There was a mocking in her tone. A chiding. She was joking with him. It was all good intentioned.

"I can appreciate a good red every now and then." He said winking at her as he removed his blazer and hung it around the antique chair. This was nice. He had thought the empty room would have made for an awkward time, but this was nice. She seemed to be in a nice mood.

He noticed her eyeing him in a rather bizarre manner. It was as though she were registering mental notes in her mind.

"Another thing, since when do you wear Prada? I thought you were a Brooks Brothers kind of man." There was a much cooler note in her tone. She did not seem to be joking when she asked that question. He knew where this was headed and he did not like it one bit.

Fitz took a sip of his water to avoid answering it. The flicker in her eye no longer suggested their previous playfulness. She was a smart woman and she knew him. The wine could have been chalked up to anything. He could have said he was worrying about his health, was going to have the rack of lamb, which was true. The Prada? They both knew the answer to that.

The intimacy afforded to Olivia…

Fitz had been his father's son. Using his tailors, wearing the same suit designers, keeping the same barber until he became President.

No matter what, Mellie knew the rules when they were married. You never messed with a Grant man and his suits. Stuffy, WASPy brand names were his style. Not cutting edge Italian designers. Meaning the only reason why he was wearing Prada was because of Olivia.

This was true. She loved clothes and shopping. Whenever she saw anything that she thought he would look good in, she bought it for him. It was one of their relationship ticks, much like her putting on his ties for him, him making her breakfast in the morning and them taking hot bubble baths together.

The simple overpriced designer blazer had acted as an uncomfortable window for Mellie. It was another sign of the weight of Fitz's feelings for Olivia. How much he adored her, respected her opinion. Most importantly, the intimacy the shared. Olivia not only bought his clothes, she picked them. Something Mellie, or any woman married to a Grant man was never to do. But like all things, Olivia was the exception, not the rule.

Fitz coughed uncomfortably as the waiter made his way to the table. He could feel the tension fill the room, so many words left unsaid.

"Good evening Mr. President, it is an honor to have you and the First Lady-"

"Don't call me First Lady, I'm not his wife. I'm Senator to you; I think I've earned it." Mellie snapped coldly as she slammed the menu on to the table. The young waiter looked mollified, his pale face slowly turning red with embarrassment.

Fitz shook his head in disgust.

"I'm so sorry…I…I" The young man stammered as Mellie stared at her cuticles.

"It's fine son, you will have to excuse her. I won't be staying-"At those words, Mellie gasped dramatically.

"…I'll have a glass of the Cabernet Sauvignon, Beaulieu Vineyard, she, a Home Grown Salad and the Maine Lobster. "

The young waiter scribbled nervously, his hands shaking. As soon as he finished his writing, he moved to hurry out of the room, but Fitz caught his arm.

"Son?" He said softly, the young man, avoiding his gaze.

"Sir, I'm really sorry, I didn't know, please don't tell my boss-"

"It's fine, just calm down, go into the kitchen and tell your boss I gave you the night off. Here" Fitz pulled out his money clip from his wallet and slipped the boy a one hundred dollar bill.

"It's on me. Have fun tonight." He said smiling. The young man nodded, smiling widely and made his way out the door.

Fitz sat back in his chair, and observed Mellie who was clearly not embarrassed by her behavior.

"Too much gin?" He asked sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Not enough."

"What's your problem?"

She sighed deeply. "Look, just tell me what you have to tell me. I have a meeting for the Ways and Means Committee first thing tomorrow and I want to look like I spent the whole night sleeping for a change."

She checked her watch, avoiding Fitz's gaze. His blood was boiling and his fuse was shortening by the minute. She never would change. In a brief moment, when he first walked in the room he saw that girl, the one in the pearls.

"Olivia and I are getting married." He said coolly.

She snorted in a very obnoxious and un-Mellie like manner. She was now drumming her fingers on the table, her lips pursed in anger.

"So? Everyone knows this. We all saw the Barbara Walters special, by the way I decorated the library, when you were giving Babs the tour, you might have wanted to mentioned that when the two of you were gushing-

"Mel-"

"About your damn date nights when you read Hemmingway to one another. You might have wanted to mention to me that the maid accidentally walked in on you and Olivia in that room last summer, but she never said anything? The embarrassment she must have felt-

"Mellie!" Fitz yelled.

Mellie looked outraged. He had enough. At this point, he was not even sure he wanted to even finish his wine. This was a disaster. There was an uncomfortable silence that that blanketed the room.

"So, like I was saying, we are getting married-"

"Like I said before, we all saw it. The ring is nice. A bit gaudy, but nice."

"The ring is a family heirloom thank you very much." Another slap to the face for Mellie. She had wanted that ring. It was practically priceless.

"Now, moving on, before you interrupted me. We are getting married; we are planning an engagement party."

"Allison Whitaker." Mellie said coolly.

Now Fitz had enough. He through his hands in air exasperated. "I'm sorry, Millicent, are you playing Mad Libs or do you have an onset of Tourette's?"

She rolled her eyes. "Allison Whitaker is one of the most well-respected event planners in the country. She does the Oscars, a few of Langston's State Dinners. She did the Clinton girl's wedding. Rumor has it she was seen having lunch on K Street, near Olivia's offices. It was in Page Six. So the fact you are getting married is not news. Then again, with you and Olivia, I never expected a long engagement."

He was stunned. He never expected her to follow them in that way. She was playing with her fork now.

"Right." He coughed, clearing his throat. "So, the engagement party should be sometime in the spring. Whenever we are done with the details, we will let you know."

"We, is it? Nice. Why are you telling me this?" She asked coldly, folding her arms.

"Because we have two children who don't know how soon we are getting married. So I would like you to join Olivia and I in telling them. They are flying in to spend next weekend with us-"

"Why?"

Fitz was confused. "Why what?"

"Why? Why her? Why did you have to marry her? I mean, yes, we are done, I'm moving on, moved on. But every time the two of you take another step, the house, moving in together, the holidays, the fucking interview, why do I feel like this? I shouldn't care but I do? Why does it hurt?"

Her eyes were filling up with tears, her cheeks were red. A waiter, an older waiter rolled in the tray of their orders, the wonderful smells of food playing with his nostrils. He was tempted to eat, but he checked his watch.

"Do you have someplace to be?" Mellie asked through her tears, her voice racked with sorrow. Her mascara was running down her pretty little cheeks and her perfect coif was now messy from running her hand frustrated in her hair.

"Thanks. " Fitz smiled to the waiter as he took a sip of his wine. "No, no I don't. I just don't want to get home late."

Fitz felt a stab of frustration. Why was she still behaving like this? It had been quite a while since he had seen her unhinged. Even when she had visited him in California all those months ago, there was a sense of a woman with purpose. But this woman, who was crying softly, seemed lost, confused.

"Mel-"

"He broke it off. Peter. He did not want kids, he did not want marriage. He's moving back down south soon. Got a job on the board of a marketing firm."

Fitz's heart broke for her. He did not know what to say. He reached out and took her hand softly, caressing it. This really hurt him. It cut him deep to see her like this. Especially when he was dwelling in the afterglow of his recent engagement. He could sense some distance between the two during the Christmas holidays but he did not think much of it. Now it made sense.

"Mellie, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't come to gloat…I…damn. I just wanted you to feel a part of this. At the end of it all, when it is all said and done, we have two children. We were friends Mel. And we can still be friends. We can start-"

"How? How can we be friends. How? Everything about you is her. If I'm friends with you, I have to accept it. I thought I had. You and her together. You don't have to say her name, Fitzgerald, but she's in this room. She's the suit you're wearing, the way you smile, the wine you drink. The goddamn wine you drink. As long as I've known you Fitz, I could not get you to so much as drink a desert wine, all of a sudden, you are this guy? How can I be friends with you when the very thing that broke our friendship is the thing that makes you who you are? How can we be friends?"

Her voice was soft, fragile and broken. It was the kind of voice he only heard in the rarest of moments with Mellie. She was soft, everything from the blush in her cheeks from her tears and drinking.

He was blown away at the level of candor she was displaying. "We can start by you doing this more. Mel, I care about you. You are the mother of my children. I will always care about you. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I know I've said this before a thousand times. But Mellie, I'm not going to apologize for loving Olivia. I can't. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for us to be friends.

He wanted to right his wrong. Fitz wished he could go back in time and change some things. He wished he had not been so cold. But the other side of his conscious, the very loud part connected to his heart, his body and soul knew he would not give up his life with Olivia now for anything. In all the happiness he had found, there came a price. The unfortunate part was, he was not paying for it.


End file.
